


for better or worse (we change together)

by idkimoutofideas



Series: Meet Your Neighbors [1]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Autistic Character, Autistic Parker (Leverage), Canon-Typical Violence, Disabled Character, Disabled Eliot Spencer, Dogs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, eventual OT3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2020-05-20 23:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 49,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19386613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkimoutofideas/pseuds/idkimoutofideas
Summary: The moment Parker saw the stranger standing by the elevator, a dozen alarm bells went off in her head. She froze, and Hardison nearly walked into her as he entered behind her. It took her a moment to realize that while half of the alarm bells were telling her to get the fuck out of there, the other half were telling her to look closer.Or, Eliot Spencer is a recent war veteran who just moved to Portland in an attempt to lead a calmer lifestyle. He ends up with some weird neighbors, but it's Portland, everyone's a little weird.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I've had for a long time now, and I've finally managed to write down the first chapter. I'm not sure how often this will update, but I'll try to make it as often as I can.  
> Thanks to MiriRainbowitz for beta reading this first chapter

The moment Parker saw the stranger standing by the elevator, a dozen alarm bells went off in her head. She froze, making Hardison nearly walk into her as he entered behind her. He sidestepped and continued up towards the elevator—still talking about Star Wars or something—and after a second or two she followed him. It took her a moment to realize that while half of the alarm bells were telling her to get the fuck out of there, the other half were telling her to look closer. Look closer at what? At his long hair and his stiff military posture? How he stood facing the elevator, yet was still able to see the door? At the not so subtle way he watched them as they approached, tensed and ready to spring into action at a moments notice? At the cane he carried in his left hand, or the scars that crossed his face? At the way he was almost leaning away from them? Or how his bag was deliberately put up as a barrier between him and the rest of the world?

The stranger gave them a once over, catching Parker while she stared at him. He narrowed his eyes, drawing himself up straighter even as he grimaced when he put more weight on his right leg. Hardison flashed one of his patented ‘don’t mind me’ smiles, and she watched as the tension slowly melted out of his posture. The elevator dinged, catching her off guard for just a moment. Parker got on and immediately put herself in a corner of the elevator, and wasn’t surprised when the stranger mirrored her. Hardison reached out to press the button for the sixth floor, only to pause when he saw that the button was already lit up.

“Are you the guy moving into 615?” Hardison asked the stranger.

“Uh, yeah.” He replied hesitantly.

“Cool! My name’s Alec Hardison,” Hardison said, reaching out to shake the strangers hand, “but everyone just calls me Hardison. I live in 614.” Parker watched as the look in the strangers eyes went from suspicion to almost bafflement—which Parker understood, that was a common response to meeting Hardison.

“Eliot.” He replied, reaching out and shaking Hardison’s hand once. Eliot’s eyes darted over to Parker, and she swore there was something… off about them. Belatedly she realized he was probably waiting for her to introduce herself.

“‘m Parker.” She blurted suddenly. Eliot gave her a small nod and what she’s pretty sure was supposed to be a calming smile.

“Yeah, I heard Nate talking sometime last week about someone moving into that place, it’s been empty since Hurley moved out like four months ago, and the other day there were a bunch of guys moving furniture and stuff in. It’s nice that you got your furniture already though, man when I moved in here…” Hardison continued to talk, with Eliot only interjecting occasionally, which gave Parker more time to examine him. He wasn’t that tall, only a couple inches taller than Parker was, but with a solidness in his frame that wasn’t present in her or Hardison. As the elevator continued to move upwards—at an annoyingly slow pace, seriously, why did anyone ever use them?—Eliot glanced over at her a few more times, allowing her a better look at his scars. There was one long one, running from his temple all the way through his left eye, accompanied by a couple other smaller ones, including one that disappeared into the collar of his shirt. With a start, Parker realized that his left eye was made of glass. The elevator dinged, finally making it to the sxith floor, and Parker was out of the doors before either of the others even registered they had opened.

“Uh, see ya later man!” Hardison called over his shoulder as he followed her down the hall. Parker didn’t like elevators. Too many people in too small a space with no real way to get out. She always wanted to be out of them as soon as possible. The door to her apartment, 613, clicked open and Parker realized she had used her lockpicks, a habit she had been trying to break recently only because it made other people look at her weird.

“Hey Parker,” she glanced over at Hardison to see him looking at her with concern in his dark brown eyes, “you good?” She pasted on a smile and gave him a quick nod before disappearing inside her apartment. The door shut behind her and she made sure all the locks were set before she sagged against the door, blowing out a breath she hadn’t even been realizing she was holding. Parker didn’t like change. She just… didn’t. As much as she liked wandering, she also liked having someplace she could come back to that she knew would be the same. Eliot seemed like a nice guy—or she thought he did—but still. In the hall, Parker heard as Eliot’s uneven gait approached, and she lightly stepped away from the door, heading towards the window. She needed to be up someplace high to clear her head.

* * *

The door shut behind Eliot and he doubled checked the lock. There was only one deadbolt? That wasn’t very secure. He then to turned to look at the rest of the apartment. It was a simple place. A small entryway with some coat hooks on his left and a closet on his right. Past that there was a small kitchen to his left that could maybe fit four people if they really squeezed, with a small counter separating it from what might be called a living room if you were being generous. Eliot set both of his bags by the door and limped forward to see a beat up sofa and a coffee table already there. Three stools were pushed up against the counter, and past that there was a darkened hallway that presumably led to the bedroom and the bathroom. The walls were a weird off-white color, covered in mysterious stains, only one of which he was certain was coffee. The rest of the walls were blank, and Eliot resolved to get something to put up so they weren’t so… depressing to look at.

He was eternally grateful to Toby for helping him set up a moving company to get him furniture, as well as for offering him a job at his culinary institute, even if it was just filling in when other teachers couldn’t be there. It was pretty much all he was qualified to do, as his experience with cooking came almost entirely from helping his mama in the kitchen when he was younger, and one Home Ec class in high school. Eliot went up to peer out the window, and he had to admit, he liked Portland a hell of a lot better than D.C. already. He had been in the states almost four months now, staying at the dingy little apartment that he shared with Shelley. Which had been… nice, but when your whole friendship with someone was based around going out and doing things, it was awkward when one of you suddenly couldn’t anymore. Also, having a friends with benefits situation with your roommate was a bad idea, no matter what anyone else said.

When Toby told him he could have a job if he made it to Portland, he jumped at the chance. D.C. was too loud and crowded, with a million people that all wanted to stick their nose in others business, as well as too many politicians. Portland was chock full of weird people, so no one looked twice at a guy with a glass eye and a limp. Eliot shook his head and grabbed his bags, lugging them into the bedroom. He didn’t have much, mainly clothes and sheets and other essentials. Shelley was going to send him his books and some other things later, so he had just packed what he would need immediately. He had never owned much, a product of his parents drilling into his head only to buy things he really needed and then joining the army, so he knew how to pack light. Even though he didn’t bring much with him, Eliot barely managed to put sheets on the bed before he was collapsing on top of it in exhaustion. He stared up at the ceiling for a while, trying to avoid thinking about how much his life had changed.

He hated it. Hated feeling helpless, feeling weak. He couldn’t even finish putting away his goddamn clothes before he was exhausted and his leg was cramping like there was no tomorrow. Granted, the pressure changes that went with flying did a number on his leg and his already messed up hearing, and his left ear still hadn’t popped, but he still hated it.

Just then his stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since early that morning. Eliot cursed and slowly got up, grabbing his cane before he limped into the kitchen. Damn he really felt like an old man sometimes. He opened the fridge only to be greeted with empty shelves. Eliot frowned, he didn’t particularly want to get take out, but he _really_ didn’t want to go to the store, so take out it was. He remembered seeing a good looking pizza place somewhere nearby. If only he could remember what it was called…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, another chapter!

Hardison’s first impression of Eliot was very similar to his first impression of Parker. Distrustful, on edge, and always trapped in some sort of fight or flight response. But while Hardison knew Parker would pick flight, Eliot struck him as the kind of guy who would fight. 

His second impression of Eliot was that the guy needed more sleep.

It had been a little over a week since they had first met, and Hardison was just coming in from a walk outside at two in the morning. He had been in the middle of working on updating the security system for Dubertech, but had gotten stuck. Occasionally when Hardison had been working for a long time he would just hit a wall and would end up staring at the same line of code for over an hour. That was generally a sign he needed to take a break. Usually he would just make himself some food and then maybe play a video game or something. But it was summer, and was warm out, so Hardison had decided to go and get real food—pizza or something.

He was on his way back to his apartment and was about a block and a half away when the sky opened up and it started pouring. By the time Hardison managed to stumble in through the front door of the building, he was soaking wet. “Aw hell,” Hardison muttered, “damn Portland with it’s damn rain and…” he trailed off when he looked up and caught sight of someone standing by the elevator. Hardison quickly rearranged his jacket so it wasn’t bunched up in weird places before he walked up. It took him a moment to recognize that it was Eliot, the new neighbor, who was standing there.

As Hardison approached the elevator, Eliot looked over and gave him a tight smile, which Hardison returned, even though he couldn’t help but stare. The guy looked _exhausted_ , like bone dead tired. He looked like Hardison felt when he pulled two all nighters in a row and didn’t eat anything other than gummi frogs and orange soda—which is to say he looked like shit. The fact that his hair was plastered to his head from the rain—making him look akin to a drowned rat—didn’t help either. Hardison wondered what the guy was doing up at three in the morning. Eliot was dressed in what looked like workout gear—a slightly ratty t-shirt, sweatpants, and sneakers—and still held his cane in his hand.

Eliot picked that moment to glance back at him, his shoulders tightening as he drew back into himself. Shit, he saw Hardison staring, he should say something.

“You look like a wet dog.” Hardison blurted, and internally cringed. Whatever Eliot had been expecting him to say, it wasn’t that, and he ended up looking at Hardison for a moment in confusion. “I didn’t mean- that came out wrong. I meant to say that I used to have this dog, Buttercup, she was a mix of like a hundred different breeds, we rescued her from a puppy mill, and she had shaggy brown fur and when it would rain it looked kinda like your hair. Not in a bad way! Just that, you know, brown hair when wet. I mean she was a great dog! I loved her, even when she got wet dog smell tracked into our house. My Nana wouldn’t let her back in the house unless we literally blow dried her. Not that you smell like wet dog! I mean, I don’t know, I haven’t like, smelled you, but I’m sure you don’t smell that bad, it smells more like rain right now, I just…” Hardison floundered, with every word he was digging himself deeper into a hole, and eventually he decided to just quit while he was behind. His shoulders slumped and he mentally kicked himself—why did he have to blurt out every stupid thought that came into his head? Eliot continued staring at Hardison for a moment with an expression he couldn’t quite figure out.

“Buttercup?” Eliot asked finally.

“Oh, yeah, my siblings named her.” Hardison smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. The elevator dinged and the two of them got on. It shook a little under their weight, and Hardison forced himself to take a deep breath. “Did you ever have a dog?” Hardison asked after the elevator started moving again.

“No, I’ve wanted one but just haven’t gotten around to it. Buddy of mine in the army had a bomb sniffing dog, but…” Eliot trailed off, staring off into the distance for a moment before he shook himself out of it.

“What was the dogs name?” Hardison asked.

“Bella. She was a german shepard, best dog our squad ever had.” Eliot replied.

“You should think about getting a dog.” Hardison said as the elevator dinged again. They stepped off together and Eliot looked at him quizzically.

“I thought dogs weren’t allowed here?” Eliot asked, but Hardison just shrugged.

“I mean technically they’re not, but I doubt Nate would notice unless it barks or pees everywhere.” Eliot frowned as they reached their respective apartments. “Anyways, see ya around man.”

* * *

Over the next two weeks, Parker only saw the new neighbor one other time. On the way back to her apartment she had gotten roped into a conversation with Amy, another one of her neighbors. Amy was a student at one of the local colleges, majoring in art or something, who had taken it upon herself to check in with Parker every now and then—which usually meant talking at her for a while while Parker nodded distractedly. It wasn’t that Parker didn’t like Amy, she actually liked her a lot—at least a lot more than Parker normally liked people—but it was one of those days where Parker couldn’t focus on anything. Her mind was just racing a million miles an hour. One guy had brought in a fancy new car with a laser cut rolling code transponder key the mechanic shop that day. Parker had only seen that type of key one other time, and she was dying to check it out. Amy paused for a second to take a breath and Parker nodded like she had been listening—that’s what people do right? They nod if they’re listening?—when the elevator dinged. Parker was facing away from the elevator, but she recognized the uneven gait of Eliot as he made his way down the hall.

“Oh Eliot, I have your dish, let me grab it for you.” Amy said, reaching out to not quite grab Eliot as he passed. He tensed ever so slightly as surprise flashed across his face, like he wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to him—which Parker understood, she felt that a lot—and Amy disappeared back inside her apartment. As they stood in the hall Eliot gave her a small smile, and she got the feeling he was as uncomfortable in the situation as she was, which somehow managed to make her feel better. She noticed that he seemed to be leaning rather heavily on his cane. After a moment or two Amy reappeared holding a clean glass dish, which she handed to Eliot.

“Thank you again, that food really saved my ass while I was studying.” Amy said.

“No problem, it was a new dish Toby show me recently, I hope it tasted good?” Eliot asked, a nervous expression on his face.

“It was delicious!” Eliot smiled and he bowed his head for a moment.

“Well if you’ll excuse me.” Eliot glanced at Parker one more time before he continued down the hall.

“What do you know about him?” Parker asked as soon as Eliot’s door shut behind him. Amy had been about to continue the conversation from before, but she glanced back where Eliot had disappeared.

“Eliot? He’s a nice guy. We were talking the other day and I mentioned how I ordered so much take out since college doesn’t really leave a lot of time to make food, and the next day he showed up at my door with an entire casserole!” Amy chuckled. “He works at that cooking school downtown, and he said it was a new dish he was trying out, but it didn’t taste like a first try, you know what I mean?” Parker nodded absently. She didn’t, but it didn’t matter. Amy glanced at her watch and cursed quietly. “Shit, I gotta go, I told Olivia and Juliet that I’d meet them for dinner. See ya!” With that, Amy ran off down the hall, leaving Parker with her thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna talk to me about this AU or anything else Leverage related, I'm on tumblr at a-very-distinctive-ot3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be away from my computer for the next two weeks so I won't be able to post anything, so enjoy this extra long chapter!

“I’m telling you Parker, Two Cats is bad, we should really go to Pleasant Street Cafe.” Hardison said as the two of them stepped out of his apartment and into the hall. 

“But Pleasant Street is so bad, Two Cats at least has good coffee.” Parker replied, her eyes darting around the hallway and coming to rest on the elevator. Hardison glanced over to see Eliot already standing by the elevator. Parker didn’t look like she was going to move, so Hardison led the way.

“Ok, but you like the waffles at Pleasant Street right?” Hardison asked. Parker scrunched up her nose and shrugged.

“Usually.”

“Usually? What does that even mean?”

“Well, sometimes they’re good. But sometimes they’re really burnt. And the whipped cream is all watery and runny and gross.” Hardison let out a noise that definitely wasn’t a squawk as they made it to the elevator at the end of the hall.

“I’ll have you know their whipped cream is always _perfect_.” Hardison said, affronted. He heard a noise come from his left and glanced over to see Eliot attempting, unsuccessfully, to stifle a laugh.

“C’mon man, back me up. Pleasant Street Cafe is good, right?” Hardison asked. Eliot looked momentarily surprised that he was roped into their conversation but he recovered quickly enough.

“I haven’t been there yet, but my boss hasn’t told me good things about that place.” Eliot replied evenly.

“Yeah well… obviously your boss doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Hardison retorted. Eliot raised an eyebrow, and on his other side Hardison heard Parker laugh at him. He reached out to blindly swat at her without breaking eye contact with Eliot.

“He is a professional chef.” Eliot said dryly, Parker snorted as Hardison struggled to come up with something to say.

“Ok, but… well what does he think of Two Cats then?” Hardison asked. 

“They have good coffee.” Eliot shrugged. Hardison let out another indignant noise and shook his head. 

“Am I the only one here with good taste?” Hardison muttered.

“You live off of gummi frogs and orange soda, I don’t think you get to judge.” Parker retorted, rolling her eyes.

“Like you’re any better? Woman, the only food you have in your apartment is Froot Loops and Lucky Charms.” Hardison scoffed, shooting Eliot a ‘can you believe this?’ look. Eliot had a pained expression on his face and looked like he wanted to say something—probably to comment on their eating habits—when the elevator dinged.

“Gummi frogs?” Eliot asked once they had all gotten on and the elevator started moving.

“I’ll have you know that orange soda and gummi frogs are a classic.” Hardison said, mock affronted. He was going to say something else when suddenly there was a loud shriek and the elevator jerked to a halt, causing them all to stumble and making the lights flicker.

“Oh,” Parker frowned, looking more exasperated than concerned, but before they could do anything else the overhead lights went out, leaving only the dim red emergency lights on. Hardison’s mouth went dry as his heart leapt into his throat, his back hit the wall and he realized he had pressed himself into a corner of the elevator. Oh man he really did not want to be stuck.

“Does this happen often?” Eliot spoke, sounding unaffected by their current predicament.

“More often than it should.” Parker replied. Eliot cursed under his breath and shuffled towards the front of the elevator to press the ‘EMERGENCY CALL’ button. Hardison tried to take deep breaths as a tinny ringing sound emanated from the crappy speaker placed into the wall of the elevator, but was unable to. The speaker rang, and rang, and rang—the sound drilling a hole into Hardison’s skull.

Finally the line picked up. “Hello this is Marissa at Oregon Elevators Inc, how can I be of assistance?” The voice was distorted as it filtered through the speakers.

“Yeah, we’re stuck.” Eliot said.

“Can I have your name, sir?” As Eliot continued to talk to the person on the emergency phone, Hardison stared off into space and tried not to freak out too badly. They were fine, Hardison tried to convince himself. They weren’t going to die, Eliot was talking to people that were going to come and help, Parker was standing right next to him, they were fine, they were fine, they were _fine_.

“45 minutes?” Parker asked incredulously. Hardison’s eyes snapped open—wow he hadn’t even realized he had closed them—to see Parker throw her hands up into the air. “I don’t want to wait here for 45 minutes.” She said.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but that’s the soonest we’ll be able to get an elevator technician to your location.” The woman on the speaker said.

“Thank you,” Eliot cut in, he then pushed the call button again and cut off the connection. In the dim lights Hardison could just make out Eliot rubbing his temple.

“I don’t want to wait 45 minutes.” Parker repeated, and Hardison silently agreed with her. He didn’t know if he could wait that long in a small, dark, elevator that was hanging several stories up, suspended by only a few cables. Realistically, he knew there were many failsafes in place to keep the elevator from free fall, but the anxious part of his brain was doing its best to convince him that all the failsafes were going to fail.

“We can’t- can’t do anything about it.” Hardison said, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper. Parker sighed heavily and glanced around the elevator before she suddenly turned to Eliot.

“Boost me.” She said. Eliot raised an eyebrow.

“What?” He asked skeptically.

“Look, you want to get out of here, right?”

“Well, yeah but-”

“There’s a hatch in the roof of this elevator, if you give me a boost I can climb up and out.” Parker pointed up as she explained.

“And then what?”

“You open the doors from in here, I open them from out there. Then we can all climb out and go on with our days.” Eliot squinted at her suspiciously for a moment before he shrugged.

“Alright.”

“No!” Hardison exclaimed. Both Parker and Eliot looked over at him in confusion. “No Parker- Parker don’t, people die trying to- to- to get out of elevators.” He managed to say. It was true, people would try to climb out the doors, but if the elevator started moving again they could get cut in half and die. Or if they climbed onto the top of the elevator and it started moving again they could get cut by the cables and die. Or-

“I’ve done it before.” She said.

“Parker-” Hardison’s voice broke, his vision blurring as the panic mounted. It was a bad idea she shouldn’t do it she could die he couldn’t let his best friend die he couldn’t he couldn’t he _couldn’t-_

“Parker maybe we should just wait for the elevator technician.” Eliot’s voice broke through Hardison’s panicked thoughts, and he looked up to see Eliot looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place.

“But I’ve done it before!” She protested. Eliot looked between her and Hardison—whose breaths were now coming in shallow gasps—and shook his head.

“We should wait.” He repeated. Parker frowned, but Eliot didn’t look like he was going to budge so she sat down with a dramatic sigh. Hardison slowly slid down the wall until he was also sitting on the ground, his legs folded up against his chest as he tried to not hyperventilate. Eliot followed both of their leads, lowering himself with a groan, and he stretched his legs out in front of him. Now that he knew Parker wasn’t going to try to climb out and get herself killed, Hardison was able to force himself to take a few deep breaths to calm down a little more.

“So, what do y’all do for a living?” Eliot asked, trying valiantly to break the silence that had settled over them like a weighted blanket.

“I work at a mechanic shop.” Parker spoke up, her voice somewhat stiff and wooden. She had never been very good at small talk with people she didn’t know—preferring to have some sort of script she could follow—but she had gotten a lot better at it in the year and a half since Hardison had known her.

“I- uh, I do cyber security for Dubertech.” Hardison said when he finally got his voice to work. 

“You work at a cooking school, right?” Parker asked Eliot. Eliot nodded and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Yeah. Toby runs a school for kids and other people who wouldn’t be able to get into normal culinary institutes, for a number of reasons.” Eliot smiled. “I’m not as good of a cook as he is, but it’s a nice place, pays well enough.”

“Wait, the Heath- the Heath School for Troubled Kids?” Hardison asked suddenly, swinging his head up as what Eliot said sparked something in his brain.

“Uh, yeah, actually.” Eliot tilted his head quizzically. “How do you-?”

“I’m part of the- the Big Brother Big Sister program here in Portland. I’m a mentor to one of the- to one of the kids that goes there. Trevor?” When Hardison said the name Eliot raised an eyebrow.

“Dawson?” Eliot asked incredulously.

“You know him?”

“Yeah, kids a handful.”

“Yeah.” Hardison shook his head fondly. “Pretty- uh, pretty good cook though.” He added. Eliot snorted. “You don’t- you don’t think so?”

“I mean, he’s one of the best in his class. Really only Molly is better than him. But you shouldn’t say that to his face, his ego is big enough as it is.” Hardison chuckled a little at that. They all fell quiet once more, the silence stretching out infinitely around them—pressing down and making it hard to breath. Hardison could hear every little creak and groan the elevator made, each noise echoing down the empty elevator shaft and feeding his anxious thoughts about them plummeting to their death. He needed a distraction or he was going to scream.

“So why’d you move to Portland?” Hardison asked a little forcefully. Eliot looked at him for a moment, and his eyes flickered down to Hardison’s foot which was tapping restlessly against the floor—but he had the grace not to comment on it.

“I got discharged from the military and didn’t really have anything to do.” Eliot replied simply. “Toby offered me a job here and, well. Portland’s a hell of a lot nicer than D.C.” He shrugged.

“Have you lived a lot of places?” Parker asked suddenly, Eliot glanced over at her.

“Depends on what you mean by lived in.” Eliot said carefully. “I’ve been stationed a lot of places, visited even more. Wouldn’t say I’ve lived in all of them, though.”

“What’s the weirdest place you’ve been to?” Eliot shifted so he could look at Parker more directly and considered the question.

“Ban Houzai, Vietnam. Little town on the Chinese border.” Eliot replied eventually.

“What was so weird about it?” Parker leaned forward eagerly, her eyes glinting in the dim red light.

“Well,” Eliot started explaining some of the quirks of the place, and once Hardison calmed down a little more—forcing himself to focus on the conversation and not his thoughts—he managed to join in on the conversation. Eliot had apparently been to a lot of different places, and he barely even raised an eyebrow at some of Parkers more… interesting stories. Though Hardison didn’t know how many of Eliot’s tales were true. C’mon, fighting a guy with a meat cleaver in a burning building? Seriously?

“You ever been outside the US?” Eliot asked Parker after one of her more suspicious stories where she talked about when she definitely didn’t hotwire a Packard 1101.

“Archie took me to Canada once for an art exhibit of his.” She replied. “Never been on a plane though.” She added as an afterthought.

“Archie?” Eliot asked, his brow furrowing.

“Yeah, Archie’s my… my…” Parker frowned, trying to come up with the right word.

“Foster dad?” Hardison offered.

“Yeah! That. He’s my foster dad.” Parker smiled gratefully at Hardison. A funny expression played across Eliot’s face, but it was gone before Hardison could figure it out—other than that the guy didn’t seem too weirded out by the fact that Hardison knew what Parker called Archie even though she didn’t. Which, granted, was a little strange, but when you and your friend are both foster kids, it comes up in conversation a lot. 

“Hardison?” Hardison jerked his head up as Eliot’s voice cut into his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“You ever been anywhere fun?” Eliot repeated the question, not seeming too put off by Harrison’s distractedness. 

“No, never been- never been out of the country, actually.” Hardison smiled ruefully. “I, uh, I bounced around a lot when I was little, and no one really wants to- to take their foster kid on vacation. Then I ended up with my Nana in- in Chicago. Don’t get me wrong, I- I love my Nana to death, but there, uh, there were a lot of us, and she never had the money to- to send us anywhere, you know?” Eliot nodded thoughtfully.

“You have a lot of siblings then?” 

“Oh,  tons. Older, younger, same- same age. Her house was packed constantly. It was a- it was a little chaotic, but she uh, she made it work.” Hardison chuckled. A wistful look passed over Eliot's face, but it was gone so quickly Hardison almost thought he imagined it. “You have any- any siblings?” 

“Yeah, couple younger brothers and sisters. My Pops wanted me to take over the family business, but I wanted to leave, see the world. Left my brother to deal with it…” There was that wistful look again.

“When was the last time you were home?” Parker asked. As soon as Parker asked the question, Eliot pulled back into himself a little, his face shuttering closed.

“It’s… been a few years.” Eliot replied eventually. “Army doesn’t really leave you a lot of time to visit home.” He added quietly after a moment passed. Hardison could tell that wasn’t the full story, but he also could tell that pushing wouldn’t result in anything good. They continued talking for a little, and Hardison realized that Eliot was actually a pretty easy person to talk to—once the guy relaxed a little. He had a nice laugh, when it was genuine. Deep and comforting. As they talked Hardison was almost able to forget the fact that they were still stuck in an elevator.

Almost.

The elevator groaned again, but before Hardison could worry that they were about to plunge into free fall, the lights came back on and the elevator slowly started to descend. The three of them blinked a little at the sudden light, having gotten used to the dim glow of the emergency lights—and Hardison had to force himself not to cheer in excitement at the fact that they were moving again. He glanced at his watch and was extremely glad when he realized it had only been 35 minutes that they had been stuck there, as opposed to the 45 that was originally expected. Parker and Hardison stood up quickly, and before Eliot could struggle to his feet by himself, Hardison held out a hand to help him up. Eliot looked at him dubiously for a moment, like he wasn’t sure Hardison could lift him—which honestly Hardison himself was wondering—but eventually Eliot took Hardison’s hand and he pulled Eliot to his feet. The elevator doors creaked open and Hardison was the first one out of them, almost colliding into Nate who was standing outside the doors waiting for them.

“Oh thank god.” Hardison breathed a long sigh of relief to be back on solid ground. They were standing in the lobby, and Hardison realized that in addition to Nate there was also someone there who Hardison assumed was an elevator technician. 

“You all ok?” Nate asked as Parker and Eliot also got out of the elevator, and they all nodded. “Good.” Nate nodded sharply once. “This elevator is probably going to be out of commission for a few days.” To Hardison’s left, he noticed Eliot’s shoulders slump ever so slightly. “We’ll get it up and running as soon as we can.” Nate continued. Hardison nodded and breathed a long sigh of relief, he had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking.

“Parker I’m- I’m just gonna head back to my- to my apartment and get take out or- or something.” Hardison said as Nate and the elevator technician walked away. He was exhausted, and really just needed to curl up in bed for the next few hours and calm the fuck down.

“Oh, ok, I guess I’ll head upstairs too.” Parker said.

“Well, I’m gonna head to work, so I’ll see y’all later.” Eliot nodded to them before he headed out the door. Hardison and Parker walked towards the stairs and climbed them in silence. 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later.” Hardison smiled weakly at Parker as they reached their apartments. She nodded and they both headed into their respective places. Once inside the safety of his own apartment, Hardison blew out a shaky breath and immediately collapsed on his couch, burying his face in the pillows and letting the tension ever so slowly drain out of his body. He laid there for what felt like hours—but was probably only 30 or so minutes—not wanting to get up and do anything ever again. He kept replaying everything that happened in his mind, and so eventually he rolled over and grabbed his computer—nothing like playing a relaxing video game to get your mind off a panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who don't know what the Big Brother Big Sister program is  
> https://www.childtrends.org/programs/big-brothersbig-sisters-community-based-mentoring
> 
> Also if you like this fic and want more like it, you should check out Plastic Pearls by BabylonsFall. It's another neighbors AU and it sort of inspired this fic in many ways, it's very good and you should all check it out!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Thanks for waiting, I managed to get a shit ton of writing done while I was away, so get ready for a whole lot of fic. This chapter's kinda short, so I'll probably end up posting the next one soonish.

Two weeks later found Eliot walking back from teaching another night class at Toby’s culinary school. The T-stop closest to his apartment was a couple blocks away, but Eliot didn’t even mind the walk. It was quiet, with a car passing him occasionally, but for the most part he had the street to himself. The elevator had remained out of order for four days, which was at the same time way too long and mercifully short. Luckily, he was only supposed to work three of those days, and for the first two he managed the stairs rather well. Even if it did take him a hell of a lot longer. The third day, however, he had woken up to his leg in so much pain he could barely move it, and had been forced to tell Toby that he wouldn’t be able to make it in that day. Toby had actually taken it surprisingly well, considering Eliot had already taken off five days in the month and a half or so he’d been working there. But the elevator was eventually fixed, and now Eliot could make his walk with no problem.

The class he had been teaching was a night class for beginners, people who couldn’t make regular classes because of their jobs or school or family commitments. Eliot had been trying to convince Amy to go to a class or two, had even offered a discount, but so far he hadn’t been able to get her to go. The beginners class was pretty much all he was qualified to do anyways, seeing as he never had any formal training as a chef. He had a dozen or so meals that he could make really well, and he was a fast learner so he was picking up more quickly. Still, it was always awkward when someone he was supposed to be teaching taught him instead. He had helped Toby with a class for kids a few times now, and he wanted to do that more; kids were the only ones who weren’t awkward around him or pitied him. Sure, they were a little blunt at times, but what middle schoolers weren’t?

“-money you stole.” A harsh voice cut into Eliot’s thoughts, bouncing off the empty street.

“I didn’t steal it!” The second voice that spoke was a woman, and it was tinged with fear. Eliot looked around but he couldn’t quite pinpoint where the voices were coming from.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time before things start getting ugly, Parker.” Parker? Eliot frowned. Parker from his building? He supposed it was possible, they were only a couple blocks away, but who was threatening her? The voices sounded like they were coming from across the street, and Eliot double checked to make sure no cars were coming on his blind side before he crossed. “Give me back the money you stole.” Eliot finally recognized the voices as coming from a small alley between two buildings up ahead; he picked up his pace to saw a group of people clustered in the small area. With the help of the dim streetlights, Eliot managed to pick out four figures. One he identified as Parker, which left three to contend with. Parker’s back was up against the wall, and the others had surrounded her; Eliot was standing at the only exit, as the other side was cut off by a wall. Eliot mentally dubbed the guys crowding Parker as Baseball Cap, Ponytail, and Buzzcut. From the way they were standing, Eliot figured Buzzcut was the leader, and was also the one who had been speaking.

Eliot moved as fast as he could towards the group, but was still a good ten feet away when Baseball Cap reached for Parker. There was a short, sharp burst of light, accompanied by an angry buzzing noise, and Baseball Cap fell to the ground, stunned. The other two jumped back in surprise.

“You bitch-” Before anyone could do anything else, Eliot reached the group and slammed his shoulder into Buzzcut, sending him stumbling. Eliot swung his cane and hit the back of Ponytails knees, something Eliot knew from experience hurt like hell. Ponytail’s legs went out from under him, putting him at the perfect height for Eliot to knee in the face. There was a crunch and Ponytail cried out in pain.

Satisfied Ponytail would be out for a bit, Eliot turned just in time to see Buzzcut swing at him. Eliot automatically stepped to the side and moved to block, only to realize that Buzzcuts fist was farther right than Eliot thought it was. He took the blow and stumbled a step back. Damn depth perception.

Buzzcut attempted to hit him again, but Eliot was paying closer attention and was able to grab the guy’s arm and twist it behind his back. Eliot used the leverage he had to shove Buzzcut away from him and against the wall on the other side of the alley.

Eliot heard Ponytail begin to struggle to his feet to Eliot’s left, so he swung his cane in his hand and whacked Ponytail on the side of his head. Buzzcut moved forward and tried to punch Eliot again, but he managed to block the blow in time. Buzzcut followed up with a kick to Eliot’s right leg, and he clenched his jaw and grunted in pain. He shifted another step back and brought his knee up into the guy’s groin. A high pitched noise escaped Buzzcut’s mouth, and Eliot swung his cane again, catching Buzzcut in the side of the face. His head snapped to the side and he collapsed on the ground next to Ponytail. Baseball Cap had finally managed to get back to his feet, but he took one look at Eliot and his friends on the ground and bolted. Ponytail rose as well, and paused to help Buzzcut up before they too ran past Eliot and out into the street.

Satisfied that they were gone, Eliot turned around to check on Parker, only to be greeted by an empty alley. “How in the hell…” Eliot spent a minute or so looking around before he eventually gave up. If she managed to get out of an alley with only one exit, he figured she was fine. Eliot began walking the last few blocks to his apartment, well aware of the growing pain in his right leg, but refusing to stop and rest. He knew that the adrenaline pumping through his system was why he wasn’t feeling worse, and he wanted to get back to his place and take a painkiller before it wore off completely. 

Eliot was surprised his cane hadn’t completely snapped in half during the fight, as the cheaper ones tended to do. It looked a little worse for wear with more dents and scratches than before, but it was still functional. He had a spare stashed away in his apartment in case such a thing were ever to happen. Eventually Eliot made it back to the apartment building, and he had just jabbed the call button for the elevator when Parker materialized beside him. He blinked in surprise at her sudden appearance, but otherwise didn’t react.

“Thank you.” She said finally. She didn’t meet his gaze, instead staring forward at the elevator doors. He could tell she was still on edge, her arms crossed tightly to her chest and her fists clenched hard enough to make her fingers go white. “For… stepping in.” She glanced at him for half a second before focusing on the elevator again as she shifted her weight uncomfortably. They stood in silence for a moment, and Eliot could tell she was getting ready to disappear again.

“I can teach you how to fight, if you want.” He’s not sure what possessed him to offer, but it was too late to take it back now, the words hovering in the air between them. Parker looked up at him in surprise, actually meeting his gaze for a couple seconds as her eyes widened. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she thought over his offer.

“Yeah. That would… yeah.” She looked away again and the elevator dinged, drawing Eliot’s attention for a moment. By the time he looked back at her, she had vanished again, his only clue as to where she went was the door to the stairwell that was slowly swinging closed. Someone stepped out of the elevator and Eliot started, his entire body tensing in surprise. The guy getting off the elevator gave him a strange look but continued past, and Eliot forced himself to take a deep breath before getting on the elevator, attributing his jumpiness to the recent fight. It was only after the elevator had already started moving that Eliot realized he didn’t get Parker’s phone number and had no way of contacting her other than hoping he ran into her in the hallway. He shook his head tiredly, he could solve that problem tomorrow, right now he just wanted to go the fuck to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a Wednesday afternoon, a little less than a week since Eliot had offered to teach Parker how to fight, and Eliot was at the local organic grocery store. He wanted to try out one of the more complicated dishes that Toby had shown him that week, but he needed some ingredients that he didn’t have just lying around his kitchen. He was pushing around a small cart in front of him, more so he could lean on it as he walked than to hold what he needed to buy, when his phone buzzed suddenly, interrupting him as he weighed the pros and cons of getting chicken or beef stock. He pulled out his phone and frowned at the screen. It was a text from a number he didn’t recognize, which in and of itself made him suspicious.

**Unknown** _: when can you teach me how to fight??_

No name, just a question. Eliot stared at his phone for a moment before replying.

**Eliot** _: Parker?_  

He had barely put his phone back in his pocket when it buzzed again.

**Unknown** _: yeah_

**Eliot** _: How’d you get my number?_  

He had only given his number to Nate and Toby, so he had no idea how she got it.

**Unknown** _: hardison gave it to me_

Eliot frowned. He definitely hadn’t given his number to Hardison.

**Eliot** _: How’d Hardison get my number?_

**Unknown** _: he has everyone’s number_

The response didn’t do much to settle the nerves that started kicking up in his chest when people he didn’t know got his number, but he figured he’d just ask the guy next time he saw him. 

**Unknown** _: fight???_

**Eliot** _: There’s a 24 hour gym about a block away from our building._

Truth be told, that gym was a big part of the reason Eliot chose that specific apartment building. There were a lot of nights where nightmares would wake Eliot up, and sometimes if he worked his body enough it would tire him out to a point where his brain would shut off and he could sleep. At least for a little while. He used to go on runs when that happened, the rhythmic feel of the pavement passing below his feet while he just kept moving was nice, but since he fucked up his leg that wasn’t an option anymore. The three little dots appeared on his phone, then disappeared, then appeared again, and Eliot had enough time to throw both the chicken and beef stock into his cart and start moving towards the checkout before his phone buzzed again.

**Unknown** _: when is it the least crowded?_

It’s not the question he was expecting, but he considered carefully before answering.

**Eliot** _: Usually it’s emptiest around 2 or 3 in the morning._

**Unknown** _: ok_

**Eliot** _: Does 3 AM this Sunday work for you?_

Parker replied with a thumbs up emoji, and Eliot just rolled his eyes before he stashed his phone away and continued towards checkout.

* * *

Parker wasn’t stalking Eliot, okay? She wasn’t. She had just been sitting on the roof of the apartment building half an hour before their fighting lesson, and saw him leave their building. She wasn’t planning on following him, but she figured she would go with him to the gym and just wait until the time they had decided to meet.

So, now she was perched on the roof of the building opposite the gym, waiting. It was 2:53, which gave Parker another seven minutes to decide if she actually wanted to do this. She was excited for the fighting lesson, she had been excited about ever since Eliot had offered. But she was also really anxious—she didn’t know what to expect. So she was watching the gym, casing it like she would case a place before she robbed it—not that she did that anymore.

There were four people inside: Eliot, a woman on a treadmill, a man lifting weights, and a half asleep kid on his phone behind the front desk. Two exits: the front entrance and a back door, three if you counted the side window. One security camera: placed over the main door, facing outwards.

Parker didn't know what would happen when she went into the gym. Eliot had just walked in, but she assumed he had a membership. If she went in, would she be required to get a membership? Would she have to pay? If she could enter when someone else was leaving, the kid behind the desk might not notice her. As much as Parker wanted to do this whole fighting thing, the fact that she didn’t know what you were supposed to do when you entered a gym made her want to abandon the lesson all together. But if James and his buddies came back… no, Parker had to do this.

She was in luck, at 2:55 treadmill woman got off her treadmill and seemed to be collecting her things. Parker quickly and quietly descended from the room and approached the gym, and waited outside the front door. At 2:59, treadmill woman left the gym, so immersed with something on her phone she didn’t even notice as Parker slid through the slowly closing door. The door clicked shut behind her and Parker forced herself to take a deep breath. No turning back now. The kid behind the front desk didn’t even look up, so Parker made her way towards Eliot.

“What are we doing?” Parker asked. Evidently Eliot hadn’t noticed her approach—she was coming up on his left side—and when she spoke he swore and nearly dropped the weight he was lifting.

“Dammit Parker, don’t sneak up on me like that.” Eliot growled. Parker frowned, did she already mess up? He didn’t seem that angry—at least no more than usual—so maybe this was just his default annoyed. “I mean, uh…” Eliot sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s just get started.” Eliot led her over to where there were a couple punching bags suspended from the ceiling—his cane clicking against the floor as they walked, echoing around the mostly silent gym—which incidentally was closer to the other guy that was lifting weights. Parker watched him out of the corner of her eye; he glanced up once when they first moved over, but otherwise seemed disinterested in them.

“So I know I told you I’d teach you to fight,” Eliot said, drawing her attention, “but it’s more important for you to learn how to _escape_ a fight.” Parker tilted her head quizzically.

“What?”

“Look, no offense, but you’re not gonna beat most people in a straight up brawl. But you’re fast, and light on your feet, so your first priority should always be to get away.” Parker nodded slowly, that made sense. “So first things first, show me how you throw a punch.”

Over the course of the next two hours, Eliot taught Parker very basic self defense. He corrected her stance, and showed her how to put her full body into a punch to give it more impact. He also showed her where to aim in order to make her hits more painful—namely the groin, neck, and solar plexus—as well as how to break out of a couple different grapple holds.

“You pick up things pretty fast.” Eliot said at one point, and a wave of pride washed over Parker. She always had a good physical memory, at least that’s what Apollo—an older foster kid who first showed her how to pickpocket—told her.

A while later, Eliot eventually called their first session to a halt. “I think that’s all I got in me tonight.” He was a little short of breath, and Parker felt momentarily bad for pushing him so hard—even though for the most part he was standing and watching her—as he was noticeably favoring his right leg.

“Ok!” Parker still had plenty of energy, and couldn’t stop herself from bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Can we continue next week?” Parker asked as they exited the gym,

“Yeah, if this time works for you?” Parker nodded vigorously and flapped her hands in excitement. She was learning how to fight! They didn’t say anything else as they made their way towards their apartments—Parker’s mind was buzzing with all the cool things she had learned—and by the time they entered the lobby, she still had too much energy to wait for the elevator.

“See you!” Parker called out before she disappeared into the stairwell. Maybe after running up 6 flights of stairs she would be able to sit still for a little bit.


	6. Chapter 6

Eliot’s eyes snapped open in the darkness, his heart pounding wildly in his chest and a scream lodged in his throat. The roar of gunfire echoed in his ears, and there was a moment where he couldn’t breathe, the acrid tang of smoke burning his throat and making him gasp for air.

Eliot screwed his eyes shut and tried to force himself to take deep breaths. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms, not enough to draw blood but enough to sting, to ground him in the present. What was it that therapist in D.C had told him? Focus on his surroundings?

He tried, he really tried to bring his mind to Portland, to his bed, but memories of his past kept trying to overwhelm him. He counted his breaths and focused on the feeling of his nails digging into his palms, the feeling of the blankets laying on top of him, the feeling of his slightly damp clothes as they stuck to his sweaty body. The taste of the smoke in his mouth was already receding, but _why did he still hear gunfire?_

Eliot opened his eyes again, only slightly panicking as he cast his gaze around for the source of the noise. His eyes fell on his window, and suddenly the loud, grating sound of gunfire transformed into the dull sound of rain as it fell steadily against his window.

The tension slowly drained out of Eliot’s body and he blew out a deep breath. He lay there for a bit longer, trying to get himself to calm down. A distant siren wailed outside his window, cutting a high pitched moan through the air. It was probably somewhere around 3 AM, but Eliot knew there was no way he would be able to fall back asleep. He never could after his nightmares.

Once he got his breathing back under control, Eliot forced himself to sit up. He stayed sitting there for a moment, staring off into space until eventually he stood, winced, and grabbed his cane, leaning heavily on it while he made his way into the kitchen. The pressure changes that came with rain always made his leg ache more than usual, and he mentally resigned himself to a few days of pain. He glanced at the clock on the microwave and got a sliver of satisfaction at seeing that it was 02:13.

Eliot’s sense of time used to be so sharp he could guess what time it was and would never be off by more than five minutes. Then the Mission happened, and Eliot ended up in a hospital for two months, recovering. After that his sense of time got really screwed up, which is generally what happens when you’re in a medically induced coma to give your body time to heal. It was only recently that Eliot had managed to finally get his sense of time back to an acceptable place.

He started boiling water for tea and leaned up against the counter, debating what to do next. He could go to the 24 hour gym, but once glance out the window drove that idea from his mind; it was raining heavily, and he would get soaked after a minute outside. He needed to do something though, his nerves were still jangling under his skin and making him itch to move. He wouldn’t be able to sit still and read; he could work out, and he had a couple weights pushed up against the wall for precisely that reason, but that would leave his mind too free. No, he needed something that would distract him while still letting him move.

It took him a moment to realize that the kettle was whistling, and he jumped a bit when it finally registered. He poured himself a cup and added some loose leaf organic green tea he found at the local grocery store, enough caffeine to keep him awake but not so much that it would make his hands shake. After a moment's hesitation he also added a dollop of honey. 

Eliot found himself standing in the middle of his kitchen, staring blankly ahead as he clutched his cup of tea in his hands, soaking in the warmth, and he quickly decided he would cook something. Rifling through his cabinets, he found enough ingredients to make vegetable paella, a dish Toby had taught him fairly recently. It was complicated enough that it would require his full attention, not leaving him any room to ruminate about his past, while also not being so complicated he would have trouble focusing or following the instructions. That was another thing about his nightmares, they threatened to completely take over his mind and leave him feeling lost. 

The first time Eliot had tried to cook after losing his eye had been an… interesting experience. He had tried to just make a simple mac and cheese, not out of the box but also not complicated, it was a recipe he used to make with his Ma a lot when he was younger. He hadn’t quite realized how careful he would have to be with knives, and cut his fingers more than once. When he tried to pour the cream into the bowl, he had completely missed, and the liquid spilled all across his counter and onto the floor.

You never really notice how much you rely on having two working eyes for little things like depth perception until you suddenly don’t anymore. It’s like how you never appreciate the fact that you can breathe through your nose until you get sick and you can’t.

However, this wasn’t something Eliot would just get better from, so he had to learn how to adapt, to work with his disabilities instead of against them.

As Eliot moved around the kitchen, shifting pots and pans and opening and shutting cupboards, he realized belatedly he should probably try to be a little quieter. It was still fairly early in the morning, and he didn’t want to wake anyone up. 

About ten minutes passed, in which he started sauteing the onion, garlic, and red pepper, when he heard a soft knock on his door. Immediately Eliot froze, turning his right ear towards the door and listening carefully to see if he had imagined the sound. Just when he had decided his ears were playing tricks on him, which wouldn’t be the first time, he heard another knock. Quietly Eliot put down the ingredients he was holding and shuffled over to the door. He peered through the peephole and was surprised to see Parker standing there. At first, Eliot thought she was there to tell him to quiet down, but looking closer Eliot noticed she was shifting from foot to foot, her hands tapping against her sides and a look in her eyes that Eliot recognized from too many sleepless nights. He took a deep breath to steady himself and started unlocking the door.

By the time it finally swung open Parker had backed up until she was almost pressed against the wall on the opposite side of the hall. They both stood there for a moment, considering each other, neither of them quite knowing what to do in this situation. They didn’t know each other that well, as most of their interactions had come from the two self defense lessons that he had given her so far. Eliot could see that Parker was still on edge, half way between wanting to come inside or disappear, so he left the decision up to her, heading back into his apartment and leaving the door open.

Less than a minute later he sensed more than heard Parker appear at the entrance to his kitchen, the anxious energy rolling off her in waves. He looked over at her and saw her eyes darting around the small space, taking in everything. Eliot looked back down at the dish and stirred it again, allowing her a moment to check everything out before he spoke.

“Do you know how to dice tomatoes?” Eliot was surprised at how rough his voice was, and he cleared it quietly. When Parker didn’t say anything he glanced up at her and saw her shake her head no. “Here, I’ll show you.” Eliot opened one of the drawers in his kitchen and pulled out a knife, quickly flipping it in his grip and extending the handle towards her. Eliot continued looking at the dish, stirring occasionally and allowing her to decide what to do without him pressuring her. Carefully she lifted the blade from his hand, and if he tensed because he didn’t notice her move, he blamed the fact that she was on his bad side.

Almost as if she noticed him tense, she moved to the counter on his right side, where he slid her a cutting board and placed a tomato in front of her. He explained to her how to dice the tomato without squashing it, keeping his voice low as he talked. Over the next 50 minutes or so, Eliot and Parker moved through his kitchen, dancing around each other effortlessly. Eliot spoke occasionally to give instructions, but for the most part they moved in a comfortable silence. 

Eliot was surprised at how relaxed he felt with her there, he was still a little jumpy from his nightmare, but having another presence in the kitchen while he worked helped him stay in the moment. He would’ve thought that since they were both anxious, it would make it worse, like two charged electrical wires creating friction as they rubbed together, waiting to shock an unsuspecting victim. Somehow, it worked, like they were sanding down each others rough edges.

Almost an hour later, the vegetable paella was done, and had failed disastrously. Eliot had added too much water, hadn’t cooked the rice long enough, and Parker got a little carried away when adding salt.

They both tried one bite, made similar expressions of disgust, and immediately dumped the rest in the trash. By this point Parker had settled down, movements not lighting fast anymore; she still had a little nervous energy, but it had decreased dramatically and she was able to actually stand still for a few seconds at a time. Likewise, Eliot felt much calmer. Visions of his past deeds no longer pressed against the back of his eyelids when he closed his eyes, though he knew they were far from gone. Eliot glanced at the clock and saw that it was 03:21, and considered his options.

  1. Shoo Parker away, clean up and head back to his room to read or maybe sleep (unlikely)
  2. Go to the gym with or without Parker
  3. Make another dish



Eliot knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep, no matter how hard he tried, and while he could read he was too full of nerves to try and sit still. His leg was still aching, but when he cooked he tended to forget about any physical discomfort and focused all of his attention onto the dish. Glancing out the window he saw that while the rain had let up a bit, it was still coming down, so going outside didn’t look too inviting. And, he realized with a start as his stomach growled, he was hungry. Option three it was.

“I was thinking about making pancakes if you wanted to stick around.” Eliot offered. Parker stilled and stopped tapping her fingers on the counter as she considered it. He waited, noting how her eyes flickered towards the door, so he was surprised when, instead of leaving, she shrugged and got up to join him in the kitchen again.

Pancakes were simple enough that Eliot wasn’t worried about them failing because unless you really fucked up, they were fine. It took real talent to mess up pancakes enough to make them inedible. Eliot put Parker in charge of mixing the ingredients while he cleaned up the stove, only stepping in to crack the eggs. He wasn’t interested in trying to fish shells out of the food. When the batter was ready Eliot poured it onto the pan, Parker watching intently. Doing simple tasks like pour batter correctly became a lot harder after he lost his eye, but by now he had adjusted; as long as he paid attention he was fine.

Eliot got the first batch of pancakes off of the stove before he offered the spatula to Parker. She took to the task with entirely too much energy, and he winced when a half cooked pancake ended up splattered all over the ground. She had the grace to look sheepish, so Eliot just cleaned it up without complaint.

Eliot didn’t catch Parker stealing a pancake off the stove so much as notice that there was one there and then suddenly there wasn’t, and there was a very distinctive chocolate smear on her face. Eliot glared at her, but she seemed to realize there was no heat behind the look, and instead looked at him innocently, a smile behind her eyes. How she managed to look so innocent with a mouth full of pancake he would never know. 

When the pancakes were finished with minimal casualties, Eliot pulled out plates and silverware for both of them. He also pulled out the bowl of strawberries and blueberries he had in his fridge because dammit, he knew she lived off of sugary cereal but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He also pulled out the maple syrup he had gotten from the local grocery store, which Parker happily used to drown her pancakes.

They ate mostly in silence, aside from the occasional noise of enjoyment, and when they both couldn’t eat any more, there were still a few left over. Eliot got up and started cleaning up the kitchen; he put the leftovers in a to go container, along with some berries, and placed them on the edge of the counter. They worked together to clean the kitchen, Eliot washing the dishes while Parker dried them. Eventually they stood back and admired their handiwork, the kitchen as spotless as it was when they started.

Glancing at the clock, Eliot realized with a start that it was almost 4 AM. Parker seemed to notice the same thing, and her eyes flickered towards the door. Before she could pull her disappearing act, Eliot pushed the leftovers into her hands.

“I cook enough at the school.” Eliot said in response to her quizzical look. “Just return the tupperware at some point.” A satisfied smile crossed her face and she nodded before she vanished into the hall. Eliot followed and made sure to put all the locks back in place before he headed to his room. He still wouldn’t be able to sleep, but he was calm enough now that he could sit and read until it was time for him to get ready to head to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there's been a lot of Parker and Eliot interaction recently, but don't worry! Next chapter will have plenty of Hardison.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been playing plot Tetris and realized I needed to stick a scene in here, so this chapter is kind of awkwardly short. Don't worry though! The next chapter is kind of awkwardly long, so it all evens out in the end.

7 AM was too goddamn early to be awake in Hardison’s opinion. Who in their right mind would _willingly_ wake up then? The sun had barely risen over the horizon, and already the city was bustling. And yeah, technically Hardison was one of the people awake then, but he hadn’t _voluntarily_ woken up that early. He had just stayed up really, really, late. 

Whoops.

And he hadn’t even done it on purpose this time! He had actually _tried_ to fall asleep around 2:30, turned off the lights and got into bed and everything. But his ADHD brain could only take sitting still in bed for so long before he went crazy, so eventually he was forced to get up again and do something.

This was a common enough occurrence that the barista at Hardison’s favorite coffee shop knew to give him an extra shot of espresso in his sickeningly sweet beverage. The barista also knew not to try to engage Hardison in conversation beyond ‘have a nice day’, because even though Hardison’s mind was going a million miles an hour, it wasn’t connected to the world around him.

There was an electric current running under Hardison’s skin as his body fought against itself to stay awake. It was a bad idea for him to try to take a nap, no matter what his brain said, unless he wanted to fuck up his tenuous sleep schedule even more. So he contented himself to sitting still—except for his leg, which bounced relentlessly against the ground—as he looked at his surroundings with wide eyes, taking in everything and nothing that was going on around him.

He wasn’t really paying attention to his surroundings as he sipped his drink and stared mindlessly out the window, so he was surprised when somebody sat down heavily in the seat across the table with him. He was even more surprised to see that it was Eliot. 

Hardison blinked at Eliot’s sudden arrival, but the guy didn’t do anything other than nod once in Hardisons’ direction, so he figured Eliot just wanted a seat. Looking around though, Hardison spotted several other empty seats and tables, including two cushy armchairs, which meant Eliot sat with him for a reason. He still didn’t do anything, so Hardison resumed staring off into space as he tried to keep his overtired brain from spiraling into anxiety mode.

“I got a bone to pick with you.” Eliot said after they drank their coffee for a few minutes in silence, startling Hardison out of his trance.

“Hmm?” It took a moment for Hardison to realize that Eliot was talking to him, and when the words finally sunk in he frowned. What could he have done to piss the guy off? They’d barely been around each other.

“How is it that you have my phone number?” Hardison blinked again, confused. “Parker said she got my number from you. Thing is, I never gave you my number.” Eliot glared at him. “So how’d you get it?” His voice dropped into a low growl that immediately had Hardison tripping over himself to explain.

“Oh I just have everyone’s number.” Eliot narrowed his eyes, not satisfied with the answer, so Hardison hurriedly continued. “I just mean that I wasn’t specifically searching for your number, if that’s what you’re worried about. My job is in cybersecurity so Nate hired me to do freelance security stuff for him so I kinda have a backdoor into the buildings security system and so whenever someone new moves in and their phone number goes into the system I, uh, grab it. You know just in case of emergencies or something.” Hardison said quickly. “I don’t go through the rest of people’s information though, I just want to have people’s numbers to get in contact if something happens. I don’t do anything with the information either, I don’t give it to anyone or-”

“You gave my number to Parker.” Eliot pointed out.

“Uh,” Hardison floundered for a moment. “Ok technically I did, but she said you were ok with it! She said you offered to go to the gym or something with her but she needed to be able to get in contact with you but didn’t have your number and I know I shouldn’t have given it to her but Parker’s really persuasive and I can’t say no to her because she’s Parker and…” Hardison trailed off as Eliot started chuckling and shaking his head. “Huh?”

“Look man, I don’t really care that you have my number.” Eliot frowned briefly. “Well, I’m not ecstatic that you have a backdoor into our landlords security system, but you seem like a nice guy, if a little weird, so I trust you’re not gonna do anything bad with that. Just don’t give my number to anyone else. I will know, and I won’t be happy.” Eliot glared at Hardison once more, who quickly started nodding his head.

“Yup, got it. Read you loud and clear. Won’t do anything like that again. Cross my heart, swear on my Nana’s life, all that stuff.” Hardison gulped. Eliot gave him one last hard look before he shook his head and got up, making his way out of the coffee shop. The moment the door closed behind him, Hardison slumped down in his seat and blew out a long breath. His heart was definitely beating faster than normal, and Hardison mentally congratulated himself on not pissing off the new neighbor for two whole months—a new record for him. Why did he always stick his nose in places it didn’t belong? Hardison sighed and rubbed his face, he needed another coffee.


	8. Chapter 8

“Do you have plans for lunch?” Parker wasn’t really sure what, exactly, had prompted her to ask that—other than a half formed idea and a desire to get to know Eliot better. They had just entered the lobby of their apartment building after yet another self defense lesson—the fourth one in the month and a half since they had started—and now Eliot was looking at her quizzically. 

She just realized that for the amount of time she had spent around Eliot, she didn’t really _know_ him, not like she knew Hardison. She had known Hardison for over a year and a half, and by now she knew all the stories about his job, his Nana, his siblings—well not _all_ the stories about his siblings, there were way too many—but she knew most of them. Eliot, on the other hand, she had known for something like three months now, and the only things she knew about him were that he grew up in Oklahoma, had an assortment of younger siblings, used to be in the army, and now was a teacher at a cooking school.

Yet she was _familiar_ with Eliot in a way she didn’t think she was with Hardison. She chalked it up to the fact that when she was with Eliot, she knew what was expected of her, and knew—more or less—what he was going to do and what the rules were. When you’re just hanging out with people the rules aren’t as clearly written as they are for fighting, and though she had known Hardison for longer, they didn’t get in each others space as much. But no matter how many times she told herself that’s why she was comfortable around Eliot, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she and Eliot were more similar to each other than they were to Hardison.

Not in a bad way, just that, well, Hardison moved wide and loose through the world, as if he didn’t have any problems at all. Parker understood that a lot of that was a facade—she had been around him on enough of his bad days to know that—but Eliot was guarded and careful, like her. They both had secrets in their past they didn’t want to talk about, were both paranoid about people coming after them, both had nightmares and had similar ways of dealing with said nightmares. They were both quiet, and while that was nice at times it could also get to a point where it became suffocating. 

Parker might be more like Eliot, but the two of them needed someone like Hardison to balance them out. Someone who was affectionate and not afraid to show it, someone who cared deeply, who was happy, who wasn’t jaded and bitter.

“I don’t think so.” Oh right, Parker had asked Eliot a question. She dragged her mind back to the present conversation, and from the way Eliot was looking at her, she knew that he noticed how her mind had wandered.

“Hardison and I were gonna go out and grab food somewhere,” Parker hesitated, suddenly unsure if she should continue. “Well, you can join us, if you want.” She finished, resolutely staring at the ground. She heard Eliot inhale sharply, and she risked a quick glance over at him. His mouth had opened a little in surprise, and he blinked at her for a few moments before he shook himself out of his trance.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He pondered over something for a moment. “Just give me 30 minutes to shower?” She nodded her head vigorously and felt some of the awkward tension in the air dissipate.

“Ok!” She said forcefully. Internally, Parker winced, even she could hear how fake she was being. “I’ll meet you in Hardison’s apartment in half an hour!” With that, Parker all but sprinted to the stairwell and disappeared into it. She would feel bad about just ditching Eliot to wait for the elevator—which had become a weird sort of habit at this point—but she was too full of nerves to really care.

* * *

There was a knock on the door of Hardison’s apartment, and both Parker and Hardison halted their argument for a moment. Parker was willing to bet it was Eliot—and was also willing to bet it had been exactly 30 minutes since she left him at the elevator.

“Come in!” Hardison called over his shoulder before he turned back to Parker. “Parker, Palermo’s is bad. McRory’s is _so_ much better.” Parker rolled her eyes.

“You just don’t like Palermo’s because they won’t make your anchovy and pineapple pizza.” Parker said, exasperated.

“Hey, anchovies and pineapple is a classic!”

“Did I come at a bad time?” Parker looked over to see Eliot hovering near the door, leaning on his cane and glancing between the two of them with a somewhat concerned expression on his face.

“No, actually, this is perfect.” Hardison turned on the couch so he could directly face Eliot. “Eliot, you’re a cook, right?” Eliot opened his mouth to respond—probably to say he wasn’t _really_ a cook—but Hardison just kept talking. “Parker and I were just discussing which restaurant is better: Palermo’s or McRory’s?” Hardison said as he leaned back and crossed his arms to his chest. 

“This is the second time I’ve been around you guys when you’re arguing over where to eat.” Eliot said with a small grin on his face.

“Yeah well we can never agree on anything.” Parker glared at Hardison. “Which is better?” She asked again, looking back at Eliot.

“I’ve never actually been to either.” Eliot admitted after a moment of silence.

“What?” Hardison sputtered. “Ok, we need to remedy that, like now. We’ll go to Palermo’s today for lunch, and then McRory’s some other time. Then you can decide which one is better.” Hardison said definitively.

Eliot shrugged. “Alright, where’s Palermo’s?”

* * *

“Man, I still can’t believe you haven’t been here before.” Hardison shook his head as they all sat down at a corner table in Palermo's. It was a nice place, fancy but not  _too_ fancy, and pictures of various people Hardison didn't recognize lined the brick walls. All of the tables had cute little checkered tablecloths draped over them, and there was a lit candle in the center of every table. Eliot took the chair that was facing away from the wall and had the best view of the rest of the restaurant—even though his cane made it awkward for him to squeeze into the corner—and Parker took the chair that allowed her to still be able to keep an eye on the entrance. That left Hardison with the seat facing away from the rest of the restaurant—not that he minded.

“I don’t go out to eat a lot.” Eliot admitted. “I end up with a lot of leftovers from the school.” Even so, Hardison was still baffled. From what he knew about Eliot from Parker and Amy and some of the other neighbors, the guy was a total foodie. If he had an instagram—he didn’t, Hardison checked—Hardison would be willing to bet that 95% of the pictures would be of food. Honestly though, Hardison was just glad Eliot had agreed to come out with them, and didn’t seem to be holding a grudge against him for giving his phone number to Parker without asking.

“So you never go out to eat?” Parker asked, Eliot shrugged.

“I do sometimes, if the leftovers aren’t looking good and I don’t want to cook a whole meal. But even then I don’t go too far.” It was true, both Palermo’s and McRory’s were out of the way, a sizeable distance from their building—though McRory’s was closer, Hardison noted with satisfaction—and Eliot didn’t have a car. Hardison was glad Parker had driven them there and they didn’t have to take the T. Well maybe glad wasn’t the right word, considering he thought they were going to die at least a dozen different times during the drive.

“Can you drive?” Parker asked curiously.

“Theoretically I could, if I got used to this,” Eliot gestured to his fake left eye, “I just haven’t tried yet. Haven’t needed to.” At that moment their waitress appeared at the end of their table.

“Hi, my name is Ashley and I’ll be your waitress for the evening. Can I get you folks started with something to drink?” She was on the shorter side, and had long brown wavy hair that she had pulled back into a ponytail. Hardison gave her a big smile, she had served them several times before, and he really liked her. “I assume you want your regular?” Ashley asked Hardison.

“Yes please.” Hardison replied easily, Ashley chuckled and turned to Eliot.

“Just a water, thank you sweetheart.” Eliot said, all southern charm. The gentleness in his voice made Hardison raise an eyebrow, since when did Eliot talk like _that_?

“Lemonade please.” Parker said without looking up from the menu.

“Alright, I’ll be right back with those.” Ashley said before she walked away, Hardison watched her go for a moment when he suddenly felt eyes on him. Turning his head Hardison caught Parker looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read, but she quickly looked back down at the menu before he could say anything. Hardison glanced over at Eliot to see him also looking down at the menu, but Hardison got the distinct feeling Eliot had been watching him a moment ago. A minute or so of awkward silence later, Ashley came back and deposited their drinks before walking away again, letting them know she’d be back to take their orders in a moment.

“That’s your regular?” Eliot asked skeptically. He was looking at Hardison's neon orange drink with a look of supreme distrust on his face like the soda had personally betrayed him.

“Orange Squeeze, baby.” Hardison said proudly, taking a long sip. “Course it ain’t as good as the stuff at McRory’s, but-” Parker scoffed.

“Hardison they are literally the same exact drink. It’s the same brand and everything!” She argued.

“Ok, but McRory’s does it better.”

“You just like that they serve it to you in a fancy wine glass.”

“Yeah, and? Ain’t nothing wrong with that!” It was a familiar argument, one they’d had many times before, and they fell into the rhythm with ease.

“Foods not supposed to be _neon_.” Eliot interjected, raising an eyebrow. “That thing’s gonna give you cancer.”

“I’ll have you know Orange Squeeze passed all the FDA tests with flying colors.” Hardison said haughtily. Parker and Eliot exchanged a glance before they burst out laughing. “Hey!” Hardison protested, momentarily offended. Their laughter was contagious, and soon enough all three of them were cracking up. Some of the other tables were looking at them because they were being so loud, but eventually they calmed down.

“Alright, what can I get for you?” Ashley appeared at their table again, this time with a notepad and pen in her hands.

“Could I have Spaghetti and Meatballs with a side of garlic bread? Thanks.” Hardison was the first to speak as he was the first to recover from their laughing fit.

“What would you recommend?” Eliot asked.

“Well, the Sugo Del Lunedi is my personal favorite, but the Chicken Milanese  is also really good.” Ashley replied with a smile.

“I guess I’ll go with the Sugo Del Lunedi then, thanks.” Ashley nodded and turned to Parker. 

“I’ll have the Margherita Pizza, please.” Parker said. Hardison took both Parker and Eliot’s menus and stacked them on top of his own, making sure they were all facing the same way before he handed them back to Ashley with a smile. Eliot watched him organize the menus with a sharp eye but didn’t comment on it.

“Alright I’ll be back with your food soon.” Ashley said, taking the menus gratefully. 

They fell into an awkward silence for a moment as none of them could think of anything to say. “So, how’d you hear about this place? It’s kind of out of the way.” Eliot asked, and Hardison jumped on the new conversation topic eagerly.

“Nate told us about this place.” Hardison explained.

“Our landlord?” Eliot asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well actually Sophie’s the one who knows the owner.” Parker interjected.

“Sophie?” Eliot still looked confused, so Hardison filled him in.

“Sophie is Nate’s- girlfriend? I think they’ve started calling each other that by now. Anyway, she runs the Dolan theater downtown, and she’s friends with Teresa and Ray Palermo, the owners.” Hardison explained.

“What were you doing hanging out with our landlord and his girlfriend?”

“Oh, Nate and my Nana go way back.” Eliot looked even more skeptical—if that was possible—and Hardison chuckled. “Well maybe not _way_ back, but before Nate was a landlord he used to be an insurance investigator. He bumped into my Nana during one of his cases and they’ve stayed somewhat in contact since.” Eliot still didn’t look like he fully bought the story—and Hardison couldn’t blame him, it _did_ sound ridiculous—but he didn’t say anything else about it. Come to think of it, Hardison didn’t think Nana _had_ told him exactly how she knew Nate. They met before Hardison had been living with Nana, and they still sent each other Christmas cards every year, but that was about the extent of the contact they’d had. At least until Hardison moved to Portland and Nana had called up Nate to see if he had an empty apartment. Hardison always got the feeling Nate owed Nana for something, but he never could figure out what or why.

“Nate told us about McRory’s too.” Parker added before she leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Apparently it used to be a thief bar.” She said, a gleam in her eyes.

“A thief bar?” Eliot asked skeptically, and Parker nodded vigorously.

“But that was, like, a while ago.” Hardison interjected with a nervous laugh. “Now it’s just a normal neighborhood bar.” This was the first time Hardison had sat down and really _talked_ to Eliot—and no, the time they got stuck in the elevator didn’t count, and neither did the time Eliot threatened him at the coffee shop—so he didn’t want to scare the guy away by making him think they often frequented a thief bar. Even if Eliot was the kind of guy who could more than handle himself in such a place. Eliot took the information in stride, and simply nodded.

They continued chatting for awhile until their food came out. As much as Hardison claimed to hate Palermo’s, he had to admit they could make _amazing_ spaghetti and meatballs. “I gave you a few extra slices of garlic bread.” Ashley told Hardison with a wink. “On the house.” Hardison thanked her and turned to his meal. They all dug in and their table was silent for a moment, the only sound was their silverware as it clinked on their plates.

“What’d you get again?” Hardison asked Eliot.

“Sugo Del Lunedi.” Eliot replied, Hardison nodded. He was a creature of habit—and a picky eater—so when he found a meal at a restaurant that he liked, he generally stuck with it. But _damn_ Eliot’s pasta was making Hardison question his spaghetti and meatballs, even if they were amazing. 

They continued talking, and eventually the topic got onto the subject of movies.

“What? What do you mean you’ve never seen Star Wars?” Hardison cried indignantly, but Eliot just shrugged.

“Never crossed my radar.”

“Never- what?” Hardison gaped at the man sitting across from him who had never seen the best movies in all of sci-fi history. “None of them?”

“Nope.”

“Not even the new ones?”

“Nope.”

“I mean, Parker hadn’t seen the originals or the prequels—which are a travesty but you still need to see them to get the full experience—but at least she’d seen the new ones!” Hardison shook his head in dismay.

“I don’t go out much.” Eliot offered as a way of explanation.

“Yeah but still.” Haridson sighed. “Tell me you’ve at least seen _some_ Star Trek?” Eliot frowned.

“There’s a difference?” Hardison gaped at Eliot before he threw his hands up in the air.

“I give up. I give up! How do you not know-” it was then that Hardison noticed the smile Eliot was trying desperately to squash. “You’re playing me, you have seen them!” Hardison exclaimed.

“Well, no. I know there’s a difference but I still haven’t seen them.” Eliot admitted. Hardison narrowed his eyes and looked over Eliot with a keen eye.

“I don’t even know if I can trust you anymore.” Hardison said dramatically, placing his hand over his heart and looking off into the distance. He was only able to hold the pose for a moment before he burst out laughing, Eliot and Parker joining in soon after. “We need to watch those movies.” Hardison said after a moment, gesturing threateningly with his fork.

“Ok.” Eliot replied, a smile in his eyes.

They continued talking and eating, and Hardison was still reeling over the fact that Eliot had never seen Star Wars—because c’mon, how can you not have seen Star Wars? But as they continued eating, Hardison couldn’t help but notice how Parker kept stealing bites of food off of Eliot’s plate. Well, technically Hardison didn’t _see_ Parker do anything—she was too fast for that—he just saw the aftermath when Parker would eat something that definitely wasn’t her margherita pizza and Eliot would growl and tell her to ‘keep her damn hands to herself, or else.’ It was an empty threat, and they all knew it.

Every time she did it though, Hardison felt a pang of _something_ in his chest, and he had to take a moment and sit back in order to pin down the feeling as jealousy. Jealousy? Why was Hardison jealous? Did he want some of Eliot’s dish too? It looked good, but that wasn’t quite it. For one, Parker had spent a lot more time with Eliot than Hardison had, between the self defense lessons and cooking at the ass crack of dawn—which Parker had told him about—and he could only assume that’s where this new habit came from. And two, Hardison was a picky eater. He spotted mushrooms in Eliot’s pasta, and Hardison _really_ did not like mushrooms. The texture was all wrong and rubbery and gross, and they tasted like dirt, so he generally avoided them.

But then why was he jealous? He didn’t actually want Parker stealing _his_ food, did he? No, Hardison had had enough experience with siblings stealing food from his plate to last a lifetime, thank you very much. It was something about the way they interacted, the little smiles they gave each other like they shared a secret. That was a feeling Hardison would have to dissect later, in the privacy of his own apartment. For now, he was out to lunch with his friends, and he quickly hopped back into the conversation.

From the sharp look Eliot gave him, Hardison knew the guy hadn’t missed the fact that his mind had wandered. He really noticed everything, didn’t he?

“So, what do you think?” Parker asked after they had eaten as much as they were going to be able to eat. Eliot leaned back in his chair and considered the question, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“It was good food.” He said finally. “Pasta was al dente, the sauce wasn’t too runny and I know they make their own. The-”

“Hold up, you’ve never been here before but you know they make their own sauce?” Hardison asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“Well, most commercial alfredo sauces have a preservative in them that makes the sauce acquire chunks when you reheat them. This sauce didn’t have that. The garlic was also very strong and overpowered the other seasoning that was in the sauce, so I know it wasn’t made commercially…” Eliot trailed off as Hardison and Parker both stared at him in disbelief. “It’s a very distinctive flavor.” Eliot muttered, narrowing his eyes.

“Hey, man. That’s just impressive.” Hardison shook his head with a smile.

“So you like it?” Parker asked, cutting in.

“Mostly, yes. The salad wasn’t very fresh, and the garlic bread was burnt, but overall it was a good meal.” Eliot said.

“What would you rate it?” Hardison asked. “I mean, if you had to give it a rating out of five stars, five being ‘ohmygod this was the best thing I’ve ever tasted’ and one being ‘throw this into Mount Doom’ what would it be?” Eliot considered the question for a long moment before answering.

“3.8/5” Eliot said finally.

“I- really? 3.8? You couldn’t just go with 3.5 or 4?”

“It wasn’t a 3.5 or a 4, it was a 3.8.”

“That’s so specific!”

“You asked.” 

“Well, yeah, but-” Hardison just sighed and shook his head. They sat in silence for a little longer before Hardison absentmindedly began stacking their dishes into neat piles.

“What are you doing?” Eliot asked after he watched Hardison for a minute or two.

“Oh, that.” Hardison smiled sheepishly. “I used to wait tables back home, so did a lot of my siblings, and some of us ended up with a habit where we stack the dishes whenever we go out. Makes it a lot easier for the waiter to collect them all.” Hardison shrugged. “My Nana drilled it into all our heads that we should always leave a place cleaner than we found it.” Eliot nodded thoughtfully, like that hadn’t occurred to him. Hardison knew most people didn’t think about it, and some thought he was weird for doing the waiters job, but Hardison always wanted to help others if he could, even if it was just a little thing like stacking dishes. 

“Can I interest you in anything else? Perhaps some dessert?” Ashley appeared at the end of their table again.

“What kind of desserts do you have?” Parker asked, leaning forward in her seat eagerly.

“We have a chocolate lava cake, ice cream sundae, the triple chocolate cookie—which is a double chocolate chip cookie dipped in dark chocolate—and a root beer float.” Ashley said.

“Oooh can I have the lava cake?” Parker asked excitedly.

“Sure thing, let me just take some of those plates out of your way.” Ashley picked up the already stacked dishes and gave Hardison a grateful smile before she disappeared again.

“How much sugar do you consume on a daily basis?” Eliot grumbled under his breath. Parker shrugged.

“Hardison says I have the metabolism of a racehorse.” She said. Eliot raised one eyebrow and glanced at Hardison.

“It’s true! Man, have you seen how much she eats? I don’t understand how she still manages to look so good-” Hardison cut himself off and looked down at his plate, embarrassed by how much he said.

“Parker exercises though. You sit on your ass all day and eat nothing but gummi frogs and orange soda. I don’t understand how _you_ do it.” Eliot shot back, saving Hardison from an awkward silence. Hardison decided not to think too hard about what Eliot said—and how it implied he thought _Hardison_ looked good—and instead he just laughed.

“What can I say, I’m magical.” Hardison said airly. Both Parker and Eliot snorted in disbelief, and Hardison almost took offense—but there was a teasing light in both of their eyes and Hardison knew they were just trying to get a rise out of him, so he just shrugged it off.

“Here you are, chocolate lava cake.” Ashley set the mound of pure sugar in front of Parker, who had a vicious gleam in her eyes—and suddenly Hardison was having second thoughts about Parker driving them back. Parker on a sugar high was one thing, Parker on a sugar high while driving was a whole different ballpark. “Can I get you anything else?” Ashley asked, glancing around at all of them.

“I think that’s all, thank you.” Eliot smiled at Ashley, who nodded and left.

“Parker, are you still gonna be good to drive back?” Hardison asked as he watched her inhale her dessert.

“‘M goob!” The reply was somewhat muffled by the mouthful of cake that Parker was in the middle of chewing, and Hardison had to chuckle.

“Just don’t crash us into anything.” Eliot grumbled. Eventually Parker finished her cake and they all paid—Hardison making sure to leave a good tip—and headed out of the restaurant.

“So now we _gotta_ watch Star Wars.” Hardison insisted as they left Palermo’s.

“All of them?” Eliot asked, apprehension lacing his voice.

“Not _all_ of them, just the first one. Maybe the second.”

“The first first one or the fourth/first one?” Parker asked.

“Oh, we are _not_ starting with the prequels. That’s a surefire way to make Eliot not want to watch any ever again.” Hardison replied.

“I already don’t.” Eliot muttered under his breath, but Hardison just ignored him.

“We start with the originals. A New Hope, Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi-”

“I do have to teach a class tomorrow morning.” Eliot cut in.

“Yeah well it’s only,” Hardison checked his watch, “3 pm, so we can watch at least two. But we’re gonna watch the other ones eventually, don’t even think about-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, we’ll watch all of them.” Eliot grumbled, pushing past Hardison. “Oh and by the way?” Eliot glanced over his shoulder with a smirk on his face. “Shotgun.”

“What?” Hardison sputtered, looking around he realized that they had reached the car and Parker was already jumping in the drivers seat. “Now that’s just not fair, you got me talking about Star Wars just so you could distract me from-”

“Just get in!” Parker called. Hardison continued muttering under his breath but followed her instructions and got in the car.

“Man my legs are too long to sit back here.” Hardison complained.

“Yeah? Well tough luck. I sat back there on the way here and I was fine.” Eliot shot back, grinning. Parker turned the key in the ignition and the car shuddered to life, but there was a wild look in her eye that didn’t make Hardison feel comfortable about the driving arrangement.

“Now Parker can you try not to go too fast-” Hardison’s plea fell on deaf ears as Parker stepped on the gas and peeled away from the curb, letting out a while whoop as she did so, all but flying them back towards their apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me about this AU or other Leverage things on tumblr at a-very-distinctive-ot3!


	9. Chapter 9

Something pulled at Hardison's attention and suddenly he was sitting on his couch in his dark living room, staring at his computer and listening to the pattering of rain on his window. Granted, he had already been doing that for… what time was it? Shit. It was 4:30 in the morning. He’d been sitting there for the past five hours—and when had it started raining? He hadn’t even noticed. The Halloween event on Overwatch was going to open in a few weeks, and he was trying to collect as many coins as he could so he could buy the new D.Va skin. Hardison took a moment and stretched, his muscles aching from hours sitting hunched over on his computer; now that he thought about it, he was kinda hungry. There was a muffled knock on his door, and Hardison recognized it as the noise that pulled him out of his trance.

Hardison frowned. Who the hell was knocking on his door at this time of night? The only person he could think of was Parker, but she didn’t normally knock—preferring to just come in whenever she felt like it and scare him half to death. The amount of times Hardison had exited his bedroom only to find Parker already lounging on his couch was, well, it was a lot.

Hardison placed his laptop on the coffee table and cautiously made his way over to the door to check who the mysterious knocker was. He peered through the peephole for half a second before he hurriedly threw open the door, greeted by the sight of a dripping wet Eliot. Any remark Hardison was going to make about the time of night or why he’d been outside or where the hell his jacket was died on Hardison’s tongue when he spotted the bundle Eliot had tucked under his arm.

“I was outside when I saw this little one hiding in a box under a dumpster and I couldn’t just leave her there cause it’s cold and raining and she wouldn’t make it but I don’t know anything about dogs and I remember you did and I didn’t want to wake you up but I didn’t know what else to do-” Hardison stepped aside and let Eliot—who was still rambling—into his apartment. Hardison shut the door behind Eliot and they made their way into his living room. “-didn’t have a collar or anything and I think she was dumped there but she looks like she’s been hurt and I don’t think it’s a recent injury but we should still get her to a vet but I don’t know of any-” Eliot continued talking as he sat down rather heavily on one of the stools by the counter. He leaned his cane against the counter where it rested for a moment before it slid down the side and clattered to the floor. “-didn’t know what to do.” Eliot finally stopped talking and shifted his grip so Hardison could get a better look at what he was holding.

It was a dog, all wrapped up in an item of clothing, but before Hardison could try to figure out what exactly it was, two wide brown eyes popped up and immediately drove all other thoughts from Hardison’s mind.

The puppy was freaking adorable.

She had short, dark fur—it looked kinda brownish but Hardison couldn’t tell if the rain was making the fur look darker than normal—with a white stripe than started at her nose and ran all the way up between her eyes and ended on her forehead. She had two floppy ears, but one was bent at a weird angle, and when Hardison looked closer he saw a ragged scar on it. Hardison reached out slowly—careful not to startle her—and began scratching the side of the dog’s face, just underneath her jaw. She closed her eyes slightly and lifted her chin, and Hardison couldn’t help the cooing noise that came out of his mouth. As Hardison moved his hand farther underneath her chin, he noticed that the white stripe continued down her throat and ran all the way down her chest, widening until it disappeared down the dogs belly. 

It was about then that Hardison realized that both Eliot and the dog were still soaked, and were dripping water everywhere. “Uh, lemme grab you a towel.” Hardison muttered. He dashed to his closet and quickly dug through what was there until he found a ragged, but soft, towel. He went back to Eliot and handed it over. Eliot immediately unwrapped the dog from whatever soaked article of clothing she was currently wrapped in and dropped it on the ground before he grabbed the towel and did his best to dry the dog off. Hardison reached down and grabbed the garment—so that’s where Eliot’s coat went—and he quickly went to his bathroom to hang it over the side of the shower to dry.  

Hardison returned to find Eliot muttering under his breath at the dog as he did his best to dry her off. “Stay still you little mutt.” Eliot grumbled, the job made considerably harder considering the dog was doing her best to lick every available inch of Eliot’s face. Hardison suppressed a chuckle—not wanting to disturb the pair—and slowly moved closer.

As Eliot shifted the dog to dry her, Hardison caught sight of her left leg—or rather, where her left leg should’ve been. Instead of a leg her shoulder just ended; it didn’t look fresh, so Hardison wasn’t sure if the dog had been born like that or if the amputation had just happened a while ago. Either way, Hardison’s heart hurt for the puppy—what kind of asshole would just leave a dog on the side of the road? Anger flared in Hardison’s chest, if he ever found the guy who did this…

Hardison brought himself out of his thoughts and glanced up at Eliot, who had finished drying off the dog and was now looking at her with such a gentle expression Hardison almost thought it seemed out of place on Eliot’s face. Eliot leaned over and gently set the dog down on the ground before he crossed his arms tightly against his chest. The dog started running in circles around Eliot’s feet, dragging the towel behind her like a cape. Hardison realized suddenly that even though Eliot had dried off the dog, he was still soaking wet, and was only wearing a t-shirt. From the expression on his face, Hardison gathered that the only reason Eliot wasn’t shivering was pure force of will.

“Hey man, you should put on dry clothes or something before you catch a cold.” Hardison said gently. Eliot looked up suddenly, like he had forgotten that Hardison was standing there. Normally, Hardison would be offended, but if it was a competition between him and a puppy? Well, Hardison understood. Eliot glanced down at his clothes and furrowed his brow like he was surprised to see that he was soaked to the bone—and Hardison was still wondering _why_ exactly Eliot had been outside at 4 AM—before he looked back up at Hardison sheepishly.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry for getting water all over your apartment.” Hardison waved off Eliot’s apology.

“Nah, it’s fine. Needed to clean the floors anyways,” Hardison joked. Eliot nodded, but his gaze was fixed on the dog, who had moved from circling Eliot to sniffing around Hardison’s apartment, and he got the feeling Eliot hadn’t actually heard what Hardison had said. “You can leave her here while you change, if you want.”

Eliot considered the offer for a moment before he flashed Hardison a grateful smile. “Thanks, I’ll be quick.” He leaned down and grabbed his cane before he limped quickly towards the door, the dog following one step behind. Eliot shut the door behind him and the dog cocked her head, staring at the place where Eliot disappeared. She sat down on the floor, and her tail wagged halfheartedly a few times before she let out a pitiful whine and looked back at Hardison over her shoulder. Hardison sighed and shook his head fondly. He didn’t know what Eliot was going to do with the dog, but _damn_ she was cute.

Hardison grabbed his computer from the coffee table and brought it back to the safety of his room—making sure the door was tightly shut behind him, didn’t want the dog getting in there and messing everything up—before he returned to his living room, which was silent except… was that chewing?

Glancing around, Hardison had a moment of panic when he realized he could no longer see the dog. “Shit.” Hardison muttered. He was not going to lose Eliot’s dog, he was _not_. There was a noise from under the couch and Hardison quickly dropped down to his knees, trying to see through the darkness and dust bunnies. Sure enough, the dog was hidden under there, pressed all the way up against the wall. “How do you even fit under there?” Hardison asked in amazement. He stuck his arm as far as he could under the couch—wow he really needed to vacuum under there—but the dog continued to just watch him as she chewed on… something. Hardison cursed under his breath and pulled out his phone, turning on the flashlight in order to see what, exactly, Eliot’s dog had decided was her new chew toy.

“Hey! That’s my remote! You can’t chew on that!” Hardison exclaimed, all but shoving himself under the couch so he could grab his remote. “Got it!” He had just wrestled the remote out of the dogs slimy mouth—ew—when he heard the door open and close gain. “Damn, that was quick. Also your dog is a-” Hardison’s sentence ended in what was definitely _not_ a shriek when he sat up and came face to face with Parker. “Woman! You almost gave me a heart attack!” He said once his heart had slowed to a reasonable pace.

“When did you get a dog?” Parker asked, completely ignoring Hardison’s plight as she leaned over to look under the couch. As soon as the dog saw Parker, she started wriggling her way out from under the ouch.

“She’s not mine, she’s Eliot’s. And he found her outside.” Hardison replied.

“So that _was_ Eliot I saw.” Parker mused quietly.

“You- what?”

“I saw him from the roof.”

“You were on the _roof_ ? In the _rain_?” Hardison gaped at her. Now that he was paying attention, he noticed that her hair was wet, and it had already started to soak into her shirt. “Woman,” Hardison shook his head in disbelief, “do neither of y’all care about your personal safety or hygiene?” Parker snorted, but Hardison couldn’t tell if it was aimed at him or the dog, who had just managed to get out from under the couch and was licking Parker excitedly.

“Awww,” Parker said, a smile on her face as she scratched behind the dogs ears. Her smile fell into a frown when she noticed the dogs missing leg. “What happened?” Parker asked.

“I don’t know. Eliot found her outside hiding behind a dumpster or something.” He replied with a shrug. They stayed sitting on the ground—sandwiched between the couch and the coffee table—petting the dog for several more minutes until the door to Hardison’s apartment opened again and Eliot entered.

The second the dog saw Eliot, she went running towards him, tripping over her feet—or lack thereof—as she did so. She wagged her tail so hard her entire body wiggled, and jumped up on her hind legs, pawing at Eliot for attention.

“Down.” Eliot said firmly, pushing her off of him. He set his cane aside and awkwardly slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground, allowing the dog to jump all over him and lick his face. Eliot had changed into a pair of loose sweatpants and a dry t-shirt and let his hair down to fall around his shoulders. He somehow still managed to look good, even though Hardison knew if he wore the exact same thing, he would look like a mess. Eliot’s hair was still wet, and—like Parker’s hair—had already started to soak into the shoulders of his shirt.

“So why exactly were you outside at-” Hardison checked his watch, “4 in the morning?” He asked.

“What? Oh, I decided to go to the gym.” Eliot said. “Still couldn’t sleep,” he added, glancing at Parker. Ah, so they had another one of their late night cooking things. How often did they do those anyways? Hardison wasn’t jealous, he was just _curious_. And maybe a little jealous.

Wait, but they normally did their cooking things after they had nightmares. Peering closer at Parker, Hardison took note of the way her fingers tapped constantly against the ground, the way her eyes were flickering all over his apartment. Yup, definitely nightmares. Glancing over at Eliot, Hardison noted almost the exact opposite. Eliot was sitting perfectly still, not relaxed in any way shape or form, but solid and definitely not moving. He was looking at the dog, but Hardison could tell Eliot’s mind was partly somewhere else.

“I saw you from the roof.” Parker said suddenly. Eliot glanced up at her like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information and nodded slowly. They all sat in silence for a minute or two, watching as the dog continued to move around Hardison’s apartment, sniffing various things and trying to find what the best—read: worst—thing to chew on would be.

“So what are you going to name her?” Hardison asked eventually. Eliot looked up with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not keeping her.” Eliot said slowly.

“What?” Parker and Hardison cried at the same time.

“But you have to!”

“You can’t get rid of her!”

“She obviously loves you!”

“You just rescued her from the street!”

Eliot looked surprised and somewhat confused at their outburst. “We’re not allowed to have pets.” Eliot said. “It’s in the lease.” Hardison waved away Eliot’s excuse.

“I already told you, Nate doesn’t really care.”

“But-”

“Besides, you could get her registered as a service dog, and then he’d _have_ to let you keep her.”

“I don’t need a service dog.” Eliot argued.

“Emotional support dog, then.” Hardison countered. “You wouldn’t really get rid of her, would you?” Eliot glanced down at the dog, who had leaned up against Eliot’s side and had started chewing on the bottom of his cane.

“I wouldn’t ditch her in the street.” Eliot muttered. “I’d give her to a shelter or something.”

“No one’s going to want to adopt her, she’s a pit bull mix and only has three legs. She’ll either get put down or will be left in the shelter forever.” Hardison argued.

“How can you tell she’s a pit bull?” Parker asked, looking up at Hardison.

“I mean, she just looks like a pit bull.” He shrugged and turned back to Eliot. “You _have_ to keep her.”

“I don’t- I mean I can’t- what would I-” Eliot sighed and buried his head in his hands. “You guys are impossible.” He muttered under his breath. At his movement, the dog wagged her tail and sat up, licking Eliot’s hands. He looked at her through his fingers and couldn’t help the small smile that broke out on his face.

“So what are you gonna name her?” Parker asked again. Eliot examined the dog for a moment, considering.

“I don’t know.” He relied eventually.

“How about Stripe?” Hardison offered.

“No.” Eliot shook his head.

“Stumpy?” Parker suggested.

“Definitely not.”

“Do you want a dog name or a human name? Cause imma be honest, I love when dogs have normal human names. Katherine, or Georgia. Gigi?” Hardison said.

“I don’t-” Eliot began, frowning.

“Ooh what about Adam?” Parker asked excitedly.

“That’s a boys name Parker.” Hardison pointed out.

“So?” Parker shrugged. “She’s a dog, not like she’s gonna know the difference.”

“I’m not naming her Adam.” Eliot said firmly.

“Ok, if you don’t like those names, and no offense but I doubt you’re gonna name her Snowball or Marshmellow or something like that, then what kind of name do you want to give her?” Hardison asked.

“I-” Eliot frowned. “I don’t know.” He said quietly.

“You’re a cook, right? You could give her a food name!” Parker exclaimed.

“You could name her Pasta!” Hardison gasped.

“I’m not naming my dog pasta.” Eliot growled in response.

“Macaroni?” Parker offered.

“How about Tiramisu?” Hardison suggested.

“Or Cheese?”

“Pepper?”

“Alfredo?”

“Apple?”

“Eggplant?”

“Egg- Parker the dog ain’t purple.” Hardison looked at her in confusion. She shrugged.

“So? I still like Macaroni.” She said defiantly.

“That’s such a long name, though. Are you really gonna call out ‘Macaroni!’ every time you want the dogs attention?” Hardison asked.

“You could just call her Mac.”

“I still think Tiramisu is a better name.”

“I’m not- no. No.” Eliot shook his head.

“No to Tiramisu or Macaroni?” Hardison asked.

“Either. Both.” Eliot sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Tiramisu is a long name too. And you can’t shorten it to anything like you can shorten Macaroni.” Parker pointed out.

“You could call her Tira?” Hardison offered.

“I’m not calling her Tira.” Eliot growled. The dog—Tiramisu or Macaroni or whatever—looked up at Eliot’s growl and cocked her head to the side.

“See! She likes that name!” Hardison exclaimed. Eliot sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair.

“Are there any vets around here?” Eliot asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“I can check.” Hardison whipped out his phone, and a few Google searches later found a place that was pretty close by. “Here we go, Shepherd Veterinary, only a couple blocks away, people seem to like them.” Hardison almost tossed Eliot his phone, thought better of it, and moved to offer it to him.

“When does it open?” Eliot asked, not looking up to take the phone as he continued to watch the dog who was lying across his lap, looking like she wanted to do nothing more than take a nice nap—Hardison didn’t blame her, it looked like a comfy spot.

“Uh, they open at 8 am.” Hardison said, he glanced at the watch, it was 5:04. “So about three hours from now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might be posting a companion piece to this soonish, so keep an eye out for that!


	10. Chapter 10

For the next three hours, Eliot and Parker stayed in Hardison’s apartment watching the dog. It was nice, the three of them just hanging out, and the dog proved to be a useful conversation topic whenever the silence stretched on too long. Eliot moved to sit next to Hardison on the couch, while Parker continued bouncing around the apartment, sitting on various things that weren’t meant to be sat on. Which included but was not limited to: the coffee table, the counter, the back of the couch, the arm of the couch, and several different creative ways of sitting on the stools that were lined up by the counter.

Eliot took the time he had to really look around at Hardison’s apartment, because even though he had already been there before when they watched those Star Wars movies, he hadn’t gotten a good look at it then. The way people decorate their apartment tells you a lot about who they are as a person, and Eliot was still surprised at how organized and _homey_ Hardison’s place was.

It had the same general layout as Eliots apartment, just flipped, but there was a stark difference between Eliot’s ‘necessities only’ style, and whatever was happening at Hardisons apartment.

The couch was covered in dozens of pillows and blankets, which made it harder to find a seat, but also that much comfier. There was a bean bag off to the side of the coffee table that was _also_ covered in blankets, and had been commandeered by the dog.

Elito was also surprised by just how many DVD’s Hardison had lining the shelves around and under his TV. It was strange, because last week when they watched Star Wars, Hardison had just pulled up the movies digitally, even though Eliot could see where the Star Wars discs were. He got the feeling the physical copies were more for nostalgia or aesthetic purposes than practicality, as small action figures were lined up along the shelves in front of the discs, and were all covered in dust.

Posters also lined the walls, ranging from Star Wars and Star Trek to Doctor Who to Legend of Zelda to the Avengers and the Justice League. It was a lot, and if there was this many in Hardion’s living room, Eliot didn’t want to know what his bedroom looked like.

Still, with the pure volume of stuff Hardison had, everything somehow managed to have a place, and still managed to look neat and organized. Though Eliot still hadn’t seen Parker’s apartment, he got the feeling that hers looked more like Eliot’s than Hardison’s.

Eliot was secretly very glad he had three hours to decompress before he had to start the day. He wasn’t working, but the nightmares that had woken him up earlier didn’t seem to want to leave him. Even after cooking with Parker he hadn’t managed to settle down enough to just sit, which was why he went to the gym and found his dog.

The dog.

The dog that definitely wasn’t his, no matter what Parker and Hardison said. There were several very good reasons why he couldn’t keep the dog: 

  1. They weren’t allowed pets. It was in the lease, and no matter what Hardison thought about Nate, Eliot wasn’t going to violate the lease and get kicked out of the building.
  2. Eliot couldn’t care for a puppy. Puppies needed multiple walks every day and they needed to be played with a lot and Eliot had a job which made it impossible for him to do that. Also he’s pretty sure his leg would actually kill him if he tried to go on multiple walks a day.
  3. There was a chance, a very _small_ chance, that even though the dog had been under a dumpster in the street, hiding in a cardboard box and looked like she had been living there for a while and didn’t even have a collar, that she was microchipped, and Eliot might be able to return her to her actual owners.



Eliot watched Parker play with ~~his~~ the dog that he couldn’t keep and thought back to what she said earlier about seeing him from the roof. She had mentioned at some point that she thought better when she was up high, but Eliot had just assumed she liked skyscrapers or ferris wheels. Apparently she also hung out on the roofs of buildings during storms.

Eliot glanced over at Hardison, who was switching between chatting with Parker and scrolling through something on his phone. He didn’t even look tired, even though it was five in the morning, and Eliot was just glad that Hardison had even been awake. He had been worried, when he had first found ~~his~~ the dog, that Hardison would be asleep and then Eliot wouldn’t have known what to do. He should’ve known that Hardison had a weird sleep schedule too, he was friends with Parker after all.

Maybe Eliot should invite Hardison to join their midnight cooking thing, but honestly he didn’t know how to go about doing that. He never really invited Parker, she just happened to show up some nights, seemingly able to tell when he wasn’t sleeping.

Parker and Hardison kept up a more or less constant stream of  conversation, which Eliot appreciated, as it helped keep him grounded when his mind threatened to float off. He chimed in occasionally, but for the most part he let their voices calm him down. Parker had been in a talkative mood earlier when they were cooking, and that hadn’t changed at all.

“Should we head to the vet then?” Eliot asked when there was a lull in the conversation. It was 07:53, and Eliot figured it would probably take them a bit to get there.

“Hm? Oh, yeah probably.” Hardison said. They all got to their feet, their movement causing ~~his~~ the dog to get up from where she had sprawled half on the bean bag and half on top of Eliot’s feet. The three of them looked at her for a moment, unsure how they were going to walk her down the street since she didn’t have a collar and they didn’t have a leash. Eventually Hardison produced a canvas grocery bag, and they settled her in that.

“Oof, she’s kinda heavy.” Hardison remarked as he picked up the bag.

“Oh! Can I carry her?” Parker asked, looking at Eliot hopefully. He nodded and Parker made a noise of excitement as she took the bag from Hardison and slung it over her shoulder, smiling crazily. Eliot was glad he didn’t have to carry ~~his~~ the dog, even though he wanted to, because between cooking earlier, walking to the gym, working out at the gym, and then carrying the dog back to his apartment, his leg was already aching.

The city of Portland was much more awake at 8 in the morning than it had been at 4, though the fact that the rain had slowed to a drizzle might’ve helped. It was something like a ten minute walk to the vet, and Eliot was very glad he had taken an Aspirin when he had grabbed his rain jacket on the way out.

They managed to get to the vet without too much of a hassle, though two people stopped them along the way to comment on how cute the dog was as she sat in the bag. No one else was there when they arrived at the vet, and Eliot took the dog from Parker to head up to the counter, Parker and Hardison trailing a few feet behind him.

“What’s your name?” The woman behind the desk asked him. She was very professional looking, with dirty blonde hair pulled back into a strict bun and a pair of glasses settled low on her nose.

“Eliot Spencer.”

“Are you here for an appointment?” 

“No, actually.” Eliot admitted. The woman looked up at him with a critical eye and he found himself not wanting to piss this woman off in any way. “I was out on a walk earlier and found this dog hiding behind a dumpster. She doesn’t have a collar or anything but I don’t know if she has a microchip?” The woman moved her gaze off of Eliot and down to the dog, who had peeked her head out from under his arm. Immediately the woman’s features softened and she smiled.

“Oh, poor thing. Of course we can check. Give me one moment please.” The woman moved away from the counter and stuck her head down a back hallway. “Wylan!” A few seconds later a college aged kid with a mop of brown hair appeared in the doorway.

“Yeah?”

“This man found a dog with no collar, could you check if she has a microchip?”

“Sure thing! Uh, this way.” Wylan led Eliot towards a side room, while Parker and Hardison stayed behind in the waiting area. Eliot entered the room and put the dog down on the tall metal table in the center of the room while Wylan started searching through the drawers along the wall.

“So when’d you find her?” Wylan asked.

“This morning. I was walking back from the gym and found her behind a dumpster.” Eliot explained. Wylan turned back to face the dog, clutching a small device in his hand.

“Well then, let’s hope she has a microchip, that way we can get you back to your family!” The last part of the sentence was directed at the dog, who had already wriggled her way out of the bag and was wagging her tail excitedly.

“Where exactly did you find her?” Wylan asked as he began running the device across the dogs shoulders and back.

“I was coming back from the Holworth 24 Hour Center, and found her near the corner of Birch and Saville.” Eliot told him. “She was hiding under a dumpster in a cardboard box and looked like she might’ve been there for a while.”

“Oh, poor thing.” He glanced at Eliot quickly. “I’m assuming you don’t have high hopes for finding a microchip, then?”

“No, not really.” Eliot admitted. “Just wanted to cover all of the bases.”

“Fair enough.” A few moments passed before Wylan pulled the chip finder away. “Well, no chips showed up on the device, but she might have one that’s broken, so…” Wylan trailed off as he set down the device and started moving his hands along the dogs back, pinching and squeezing her skin as he searched for a chip. A few times he paused and grabbed the device again, holding it up to the dogs back, but nothing happened so he put it back down and continued.

Eliot took the time to look around and check out the room he was in. It was a beat up place, old walls that were lined on one side by weathered cupboards and drawers, and on the other side had several photographs of various animals hanging up by a whiteboard with a childish drawing of a dog playing ball.

“Well, she doesn’t seem to have a chip.” Wylan said eventually, leaning back from the dog. Eliot wasn’t expecting her to, but he was surprised at just how relieved he felt that he wouldn’t have to return her to her owners. “So you have a couple options. If you think she’s got owners who are looking for her, we can help you file a found dog report with the local animal shelter, but from what you described it seems like she was left on the street, is that right?”

“Yeah, it looked like she had been in that cardboard box for a while.” Eliot said, resting his hand on the dogs back and petting her gently.

“Ok, well I’d still recommend filing a found dog report, as well as putting up a few fliers with her picture on them around the area you found her. From there you can either leave her at the shelter or keep her with you, whichever you prefer.” Wylan checked his watch quickly. “It’s only 8:10, and our first appointment isn’t until 8:30, so I can see if we can squeeze in a little time to do a simple check up, just to make sure she’s ok while you wait to see if someone comes forward and claims her. I’m not technically qualified to do that, otherwise I would.” Wylan gave him a sheepish smile.

“Ok.”

“For now you can go back into the waiting room and I’ll talk to Celia and see if we can make some time for you.” Eliot nodded and started the process of trying to get the dog back in the bag. “Uh, hang on, let me see if we have an extra collar and leash that you can have.” Wylan disappeared out the door, and Eliot had to grab a hold of the dog to keep her from leaping off the table after him.

Less than a minute later, Wylan reappeared with a beat up collar and an even more beat up leash in his hands. He helped Eliot fit the collar on the dog, and once the leash had been clipped on Eliot carefully picked her up and set her on the ground before walking out. On his way towards the waiting room, Wylan gave him two forms to fill out, one was for more general stuff including his contact information, and the other was the template for the lost dog form.

The waiting room was still empty except for Parker and Hardison, who somehow had managed to take up three chairs between the two of them. They both sat up when Eliot entered, Parker throwing aside whatever pamphlet she had been reading to sit down on the floor and pet the dog.

“So? Does she have a microchip?” Hardison asked.

“Nope.” Eliot sat down heavily in the seat Parker had just vacated and mentally cursed whoever it was that had decided that the examination rooms didn’t need chairs.

“So you’re gonna keep her?” Parker glanced up at Eliot hopefully, and he sighed.

“Parker, I already told you we can’t have pets. It’s in the lease!”

“Yeah but that’s bullshit. Nate-” Hardison started, but Eliot cut him off.

“Hardison, I am not lying to our landlord.” Eliot growled. Hardison paused for half a second before he continued talking.

“Ok, but how about this: we tell Nate you’re only gonna hold the dog until you find the owners—which _isn’t a lie_. Then, while you’re ‘searching for her owners’ we train her, take her to puppy kindergarten, show Nate that she’s under control, then he’ll fall in love with her and won’t be able to tell you to get rid of her!” Hardison explained, waving his hands emphatically and almost whacking Eliot in the head.

“Yeah, except for the problem of what if Nate doesn’t give a shit and tells me to get rid of the dog anyways?” Eliot sighed and rubbed his temples. 

“Nate wouldn’t really do that, would he?” Parker asked from her spot on the ground where she was petting the dog. She looked up at Eliot and Hardison with worried eyes.

“I’m sure I can convince him otherwise!” Hardison said, his voice a little too cheerful to be believeable.

“Fine, but you’re the one that’s going to talk to him.” Eliot muttered. He spent the next several minutes filling out the forms he was given as Hardison took a photo of the dog to attach to the found dog report.

“Eliot?” The woman behind the desk, who Eliot assumed was Celia, called him up. He took the leash from Parker to lead the dog to the counter, leaving both her and Hardison in the waiting room again.

“Do you have the forms?” Celia asked. Eliot handed them both over and she spent a moment examining them. “Alright, looks like you’re all set. Kai over there is ready to start the check up, and Doctor Laroque will be with you shortly.” Eliot nodded and started to move towards another woman with dyed blue hair who was waiting by a different room. “Oh one more thing?” Eliot paused and turned back to Celia. “What is the dogs name? We have to put something down in the registry.”

“Um,” Eliot froze. Shit, he still hadn’t thought of a name. Desperately he tried to think of something, but it was as if every name he had ever thought of immediately flew out of his head. Behind him, Eliot heard Parker and Hardison halt their conversation, and he could feel their eyes boring into the back of his head. “Mac.” Eliot blurted when the silence had stretched on for too long. He heard Parker make a noise of excitement while Haridison groaned from the waiting room.

“Alright, if you and Mac could follow Kai please.” Eliot nodded and led the dog- led Mac towards another room, different from the one he had gone into with Wylan before. Kai helped Eliot get Mac situated on a scale that was tucked into the corner.

“22 pounds.” Kai commented, jotting it down on a clipboard that she carried with her. She then effortlessly picked Mac up off the ground and set her on the examination table, for which Eliot was grateful. He didn’t think he could bend over and lift the dog again.

Kai began checking Mac out, looking at her teeth, listening to her heart, examining her torn ear and missing leg, and Eliot let his eye wander again. This room was almost identical to the room he had been in with Wylan, except for the scale tucked into the corner, and there were different pictures on the wall.

“So you say you found her on the street?” Kai asked, grabbing Eliot’s attention.

“Yeah, earlier this morning, she was in a cardboard box under a dumpster.” Eliot explained again. Kai nodded thoughtfully as she felt where Mac’s leg would’ve been. “Can you tell what happened?” Eliot asked, motioning to the missing limb.

“Well, there’s no injury in the surrounding area, and it doesn’t seem like a recent wound, even though she’s still fairly young. I’d say she was probably just born without a leg.” Kai shrugged.

“That can happen?”

“It’s rare, but it does happen on occasion.”

“Oh,” they lapsed into silence again. “How old is she?”

“She’s pretty small, even for what’d I’d guess is a pitbull mix, which either means she’s very young, malnourished, or crossed with a small breed of dog. Given the state of her teeth and gums and the fact that you found her on the street, I’d guess her size is a result of malnourishment. As for an age, I’d say she’s somewhere around 5 months old?” Kai shrugged. “Well I’m done with my part, let me just grab the doc to confirm and she can give you an antibiotics plan.” Eliot nodded as Kai disappeared out the door. Less than a minute later she reappeared with an older black woman who had short, spiky hair.

“So this is the dog you found on the street?” Dr Laroque asked brusquely. She glanced at Eliot once, but her attention was mostly on Mac. 

“Yeah, under a dumpster. She looked like she’d been there for a while.” Eliot answered. Dr Laroque nodded and quickly looked over the notes Kai had made before she moved over to Mac and double checked a few things.

“Looks like Kai got everything down. 5 months old, leg deformity that led to amputation or born without one.” Doctor Laroque nodded. “Have you ever had a dog before?” She turned to Eliot, and he shook his head.

“I haven’t, but Hardison has.” Eliot jerked his thumb to the door, behind which Parker and Hardison were both waiting. Kai gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher, but then the doctor started talking and Eliot focused on her.

“Well, Mac here is a puppy so she needs a lot of exercise, but you should also be careful not to let her overexert herself, as dogs with three legs are prone to injuring their other legs.” Doctor Laroque went on to explain how much he should feed Mac, the type of food he should give her, how often he should exercise her, and what to watch out for in terms of overexertion. It was a lot of information to process, and Eliot felt entirely overwhelmed. “Do you understand?” Doctor Laroque asked him. He definitely didn’t, but he also didn’t want to waste any more of their time.

“I wrote everything down and can make a printout for you.” Kai told him, seemingly able to read his confused silence.

“That would be great, thanks.” Eliot smiled gratefully.

“Alright, good. If you have any other questions feel free to call us.” Doctor Laroque said, and Eliot nodded. He was led out of the examination room, thanking the two of them profusely on the way. Kai headed behind the desk for a moment to print out the information he needed, leaving Eliot to wait at the counter. She eventually handed him a pamphlet that was essentially ‘how to take care of a dog for dummies’ and sent him off with a prescription of general antibiotics, just to make sure Mac didn’t have anything.

By the time Eliot made it back to the waiting room, he found Parker absolutely smitten with two cats that had been brought in, while Hardison stayed as far away as he could on the other side of the room.

“I’m allergic man!” Hardison said when Eliot raised an eyebrow. “I still can’t believe you named your dog Macaroni.” He added under his breath.

“It’s better than Tiramisu.” Eliot shot back.

Kai had also given him a recommendation on where to buy pet supplies, a small little pet store that was only a street over, so they headed there next.

“I’m only getting the essentials.” Eliot said firmly as they entered. He should’ve known better, because almost immediately Parker and Hardison were piling things in the cart that he didn’t need.

“Ooh Eliot! You should get this!” Parker shoved a matching black leather collar and leash into Eliot’s eyeline, both lined with silver studs.

“No.” Eliot said.

“Hey Eliot, you should get this one.” Hardison held up a bright pink collar and leash, trying to stop the shit eating grin that was spreading across his face.

“You two are impossible.” Ignoring both of them, Eliot instead settled for a normal red and blue striped collar and a simple leather leash.

“That’s so boring.” Parker complained.

“It’s practical.” Eliot replied. Following instructions, they grabbed a bag of dry dog food, which Parker carried, along with several cans of wet dog food. They also looked for a few toys, and even though Eliot vetoed over half of the ones Parker and Hardison grabbed, he still ended up with about a dozen chew toys, bones, and tennis balls, before they finally managed to head back to the apartment.

“I can’t believe you guys talked me into getting all this.” Eliot complained as he unlocked his apartment door. “You know her real owners might still show up.”

“C’mon man, we all know that’s bullshit.” Hardison spoke up. Eliot let go of Mac’s leash the moment the door was shut behind them, letting her sniff around the apartment while he dealt with putting everything away.

“I like your place.” Eliot looked over to see Hardison standing back and examining Eliot’s nearly empty living room. Immediately he felt his face flush. Hardison must think Eliot’s place was so empty and boring compared to his. At least he had finally managed to find a tapestry that he liked at a thrift shop and put it up on the wall, so it wasn’t _too_ depressing to look at. 

“Yeah, well, I just don’t have that much stuff.” Eliot mumbled.

“Nah man, it’s cool. Minimalist, I dig it.” Hardison said, a lopsided grin on his face, but Eliot couldn’t tell if the smile was genuine or not.

It took a little longer, but eventually Eliot managed to shoo both Parker and Hardison out of his apartment, though they tried to stay as long as they could. He shut the door behind them and made sure all the locks were in place before he turned back to his apartment to see Mac waiting expectantly for him, her tail wagging.

“What am I going to do with you?” Eliot asked tiredly. She didn’t answer, which was good, because Eliot didn’t think he could handle a talking dog right now. He sighed and put out food and water for her, which she happily attacked, while he downed two Aspirin to help with the ache in his leg.

Eliot rubbed his face tiredly and shuffled over to his couch, immediately collapsing on top of it. He wasn’t planning on falling asleep, but he also wasn’t planning on _doing_ anything, he just wanted to sit and watch ~~the~~ his dog in peace and quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: So classes are starting again, and I thought I was going to be able to post another chapter before things got too hectic, but unfortunately that didn't happen. I won't be able to update this for the next few weeks, and after that the updates will be much more sporadic.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I know it's been a while, but school started and things got hectic and I didn't have reliable access to wifi for a couple weeks. I'm going to try to post a chapter every other week, but we'll see how long that lasts. For now, enjoy!

Given how grumpy Eliot acted all the time, Hardison felt like he should’ve been surprised by just how quickly Eliot accepted Mac into his life. But he wasn’t.

The day after Eliot found Mac, he had already figured out the times he would need someone to take her out, a role both Hardison and Parker happily filled when they could. Since Hardison didn’t really have to go _into_ work, he got more time with her—not that he bragged about it or anything.

Two days after Eliot had first found Mac, he got Parker to drive him back to the pet store to pick up things he forgot. Like a dog bed. And more toys.

Three days after Eliot rescued Mac, he was already asking Hardison if he knew of any good puppy kindergarten places in town. Like the man didn’t know how to Google! And yeah, Hardison had talked about his old dog Buttercup and was _technically_ the dog expert between the three of them, but that didn’t mean he knew everything about dogs! It’d been _years_ since he’d had a dog, and even when he had Buttercup it was mostly his siblings that took care of her.

Still, Hardison was secretly glad that Eliot had stopped talking about giving Mac to a shelter. Hardison knew it had been a bluff, a way to pretend that he was still a macho manly-man even though Hardison knew Eliot was secretly a giant teddy bear. But it was nice to know that Hardison wouldn’t have to worry about Parker giving Eliot the cold shoulder for the foreseeable future—she could hold a grudge like nobody’s business. Besides, Mac had gotten attached to Eliot, and as much as he tried to hide it, Eliot had gotten attached to her.

Whenever Hardison saw Eliot with Mac, he had a smile on his face. It wasn’t something most people would call a smile, but Hardison knew Eliot well enough by now to know that his real smile wasn’t really a smile. It was more of the way the corners of his eyes crinkled up, making his features look that much softer. Or the way the side of his mouth would tug a bit as he had to fight to keep his expression under control whenever Mac did something cute. The way he tried to cover it up by rolling his eyes or frowning, but was never really able to stop the look on his face that was a mixture of exasperated and fond and-

Point was, Hardison knew Mac made Eliot happy. Even if he didn’t want to admit it. That also meant that Hardison had to talk to Nate ASAP—he had promised Eliot he would deal with their landlord since he knew the guy better—because if there was a surefire way to make Nate say no to something, it was trying to keep it a secret from him.

**Hardison** : _heeeeey nate_

**Hardison** : _how do you feel about dogs?_

**Nate** : _What did you do this time Hardison?_

**Hardison** : _what makes you think i did something?_

**Nate** : _Hardison_.

**Hardison** : _ok, but theoretically, what would you say if someone rescued a lost puppy from the street and was taking care of it until the owners could be found?_

The three little dots appeared, then disappeared, and Hardison could practically see Nate rolling his eyes.

**Nate** : _How theoretical are we talking?_

**Hardison** : _pretty, definitely, actually, really happened_

**Nate** : _Hardison…_

**Hardison** : _c’mon nate! we couldn’t just leave her out in the rain!_

**Hardison** : _i know it says no pets on the lease but can’t you make an exception?_

**Nate** : _And who is this ‘we’ you’re talking about?_

**Hardison** : _me, parker, and eliot_

**Nate** : _Which one of you is keeping the dog?_

**Hardison** : _eliot_

**Nate** : _Is the dog trained?_

**Hardison** : _uhhh kind of?_

**Hardison** : _she hasn’t peed in the building yet!_

**Hardison** : _and we can sign her up for puppy kindergarten!_

Nate didn’t respond for a moment, and Hardison was suddenly nervous that he was storming up to Eliot’s apartment to demand that he get rid of the dog.

**Hardison** : _please? just until we find the owners?_

**Nate** : _Fine. But once you find the owners I want the dog gone. And if any of the other tenants complain about it, the deal is off._

**Hardison** : _you’re the best nate!_

No point in telling Nate that there probably _weren’t_ any owners. What Nate didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. Now he just needed to find a puppy kindergarten class.

* * *

Eliot was acting weird. Hardison wasn’t sure _why_ Eliot was acting weird, but he was definitely acting weird.

They were at the first puppy kindergarten class, which was being held at one of the larger pet stores in town. It was far enough from their apartment that they had to take the T—Parker was still at the shop and couldn’t drive them. It was more crowded than Hardison had been expecting, around ten dogs in total that ran around in a fenced off area. Ten dogs, plus two owners each, more if there were children—yeah, it was crowded.

Eliot and Hardison were off to the side of the blocked off area where the puppies had been allowed to roam, standing next to the other owners. Hardison kept trying to make small talk, but talking to Eliot was like talking to a brick wall—but at least you knew what to expect from a brick wall. Eliot would nod or say ‘yeah’ occasionally, but that was it, he didn’t even grumble ‘dammit Hardison’ when he made a bad Star Wars joke. To be fair, Hardison was standing on Eliot’s left side, so he wasn’t sure how much Eliot straight up didn’t hear, as it was pretty noisy with all the dogs and kids running around. But Eliot had pretty deliberately stood on Hardison’s right, so he didn’t try to move.

Other than the occasional nod or grunt, Eliot’s mind seemed to be in a totally different place. Where he was exactly, Hardison had no idea, but it didn’t seem like a nice place, if the way Eliot’s jaw was clenched and how his shoulders were back and his eyes were narrowed as he seemed to be searching the area for threats was any indication. Eliot’s eyes kept snagging on one part of the room, but Hardison couldn’t tell what was grabbing his attention—it was just a group of kids.

Hardison had initially thought it was the crowd or the noise that was setting Eliot off, but they’d been in louder and more crowded places before and there hadn’t been a problem. So it was something specific about this place—the people, the dogs, the building—that was making Eliot uncomfortable, but Hardison had no idea what it was.

Whatever was bothering Eliot seemed to be rubbing off on Mac too. She was off leash like all the other dogs, but rarely went more than five feet from Eliot, sniffing the ground around them instead of playing.

“Can I- can I pet your dog?” A kid, no older than ten, with rosy cheeks and two blue eyes peering out from under a mop of curly brown hair hair came up to the two of them. Eliot tensed for a moment, surprised, before he broke out into a wide smile—it was forced, but it was there.

“Of course.” Eliot said, he whistled, and Mac came trotting over from whatever she had been smelling. The kid smiled and reached out to pet Mac, who was hesitant for only a moment before her tail was wagging and she was soaking up the attention. Eliot awkwardly got down on one knee—even though it must’ve been killing his leg—so he could be at eye level with the kid. “Her name’s Mac.” Eliot said,

“My name’s Randy.” The kid mumbled, too focused on petting the dog to make eye contact.

“Randy, I like that name.” Eliot smiled gently, and the kid nodded. “Well Randy, my name’s Eliot, and this is Hardison.” Eliot introduced them, but the kid just kept petting Mac.

“I wanna pet every dog that’s here.” Randy mumbled eventually.

“That’s a pretty good goal man. How many do you have left?” As Eliot and Randy continued talking, Hardison watched as the tension slowly bled out of Eliot’s frame. It didn’t go away completely, but he went from being coiled so tight he looked like he was about to explode to only tensing a little whenever there was a loud noise.

“What’s wrong with your eye?” Randy asked. He had finally looked up at Eliot and was tilting his head quizzically. Hardison winced internally, but Eliot just chuckled and leaned in like he had a secret.

“It’s made of glass.” Eliot said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Randy gasped. “Woah, really? That’s so cool!”

“It’s a secret though, shh.” Eliot winked at Randy, who giggled and clapped his hands together excitedly. Sometimes Hardison forgot that Eliot had younger siblings, but every now and then he was reminded in full force. He was good with kids—even Trevor said he liked Eliot, and Trevor liked very few people.

Mac seemed to sense Eliot’s calm returning, and eventually she ran off to play with some of the other dogs. She tripped over her feet a few times, making a lot of people laugh, but seemed to be having a good time. 

Randy left too, wanting to pet the other dogs, and Eliot watched him go with a fond smile. He took a deep breath and adjusted his grip on his cane to stand up, but before he could struggle to his feet Hardison reached out a hand to help. Eliot didn’t even hesitate, just grabbed Hardison’s hand to haul himself up—nearly pulling Hardison over in the process. Eliot grimaced and shook out his leg for a moment before he resumed his watch of the room. The talk with Randy had relaxed him a bit, at the very least he no longer looked like he was about to bolt.

“You good man?” Hardison asked gently. Eliot glanced over at him and smiled a bit.

“Yeah, I just- yeah.” Before Hardison could press the issue any more, the teacher walked to the center of the room and clapped her hands, getting everyone’s attention.

“Could everyone please collect their dogs and put them on leash?” She asked. There was a minute or so where everyone scrambled to collect their dogs, but eventually all of them were put back on leash.

“Ok, so, my name is Jenny, and I am your instructor for puppy kindergarten!” Jenny was a woman in her early 30’s with bright eyes and a wide smile. Her hair was dyed an electric pink color, and was currently pulled back into a ponytail that it was trying desperately to escape from. “I’m sure as you all know, one of the most important parts of puppy kindergarten is the socialization that your dogs get.” From the slightly bewildered expression that Hardison could see on Eliot’s face, he was pretty sure Eliot had no idea. “As these classes continue, I want you all to encourage your puppies to play with the others. This is so they don’t become aggressive or fearful as they age.” Jenny’s eyes hovered for a moment on Mac before moving on.

“And it’s not a bad thing if your dog is shy! It just means you have to make sure to take them out to a lot of different and exciting places.” Jenny looked around the room again and smiled. “Now of course we will also be teaching the basic commands: sit, down, stay, come, heel, and off. But don’t be upset if your puppy doesn’t learn them right away! They’re very young and have a hard time focusing, especially when in new and exciting places like this. Which is why it is _very important_ that you also train your dog at home.” Jenny walked off to the side of the area and picked up a bag of dog treats and grabbed the leash of a black and white border collie, who had been waiting so patiently Hardison hadn’t even noticed. It

“This here is Shiver, and she will be the demonstration. We’re going to start with the most basic command: sit.” Immediately Shiver sat down, and Jenny gave her a treat. “When training your puppy, it’s very important to remember not to repeat yourself, as that will just confuse them. The first few times you try to get your dog to sit, say ‘sit’ while pressing down on their bum. You can also hold a treat in front of their nose, and tell them to sit while raising it higher into the air. This way their head follows the treat and they sit.” Jenny demonstrated with Shiver again. “Ok, now I want all of you to try.” Immediately a chorus of ‘sit’ echoed around the room as people tried to train their dogs.

Hardison was mostly there for moral support, so he stayed back while Eliot worked with Mac. Jenny did make Hardison train Mac a couple times—something about it being important that Mac learned to take commands from multiple people—but for the most part Eliot handled it.

After sit, they started learning ‘come’, each set of owner and dog taking a turn. They headed to the store aisles, and while one person stayed at one end with the dog, the other person went down to the other side. The person on the far side would call for the dog, and reward the dog with a treat once they got there. Then the person on the other side of the aisle called the dog, and so on and so forth.

Hardison had to admit, watching Mac come barreling full tilt down the aisle towards him was hilarious. Her balance was a bit wonky, so she tripped fairly often, but was still so excited when she reached him.

Eliot was also relaxing more and more the longer they were there. By the end of class Eliot was moving more freely, and his smile was much less forced. There was still an undercurrent of tension, and his eyes were a bit too sharp to be completely relaxed, but it was better than before.

Eventually, the puppies were allowed to run around and play again, while the owners asked Jenny any questions that they had. Mac played around for a bit, but after a few minutes trotted back over to Eliot and sat by his feet.

“You tired yet Mac?” Eliot asked gruffly, pulling out her leash from his jacket pocket. She looked up at them, panting, and Hardison noticed the fond smile that crossed Eliot's face.

“What happened to your dogs leg?” Hardison and Eliot both looked up to see a young girl, maybe around 12 years old, with straight black hair that tumbled down past her shoulders, staring at Mac with wide brown eyes. Hardison felt Eliot stiffen beside him, and looked over to see an expression of sorrow on Eliot’s face so strong it made Hardison’s breath catch in his throat. The expression was only there for an instant, and it was gone so fast Hardison almost thought he imagined it.

It became clear that Eliot wasn’t going to respond, so Hardison stepped in “She was just born like that.” He crouched to her eye level.

“You can pet her.” Apparently Eliot found his voice again, but it was rough and scratchy, like something was caught in his throat. The girl squealed in delight and moved to pet Mac, who looked up at Eliot before she submitted to the attention. Hardison glanced back up at Eliot and saw that same expression of sorrow and pain and _guilt_ . Eliot had never met this kid before—to Hardison’s knowledge at least—so why did he look so _guilty_?

“What’s her name?” The girl asked, so focused on petting the dog she didn’t look up.

“Her name’s Mac.” Eliot replied, his voice softer than Hardison had ever heard it before.

“What’s your name?” Hardison asked after a moment of silence passed.

“Aliyah.” She said, still not looking up.

“That’s a nice name.” Hardison smiled. “Well, I’m Hardison, and this is Eliot.” He glanced back up at Eliot again, but a mask had descended over his face. The only indication Hardison had to know anything was wrong was the fact that Eliot was gripping Mac’s leash so tightly his fingers were going white.

“Well, I’ll tell you what Aliyah, we have to get going, but I’m sure you can pet Mac lots more at the next class.” Hardison said.

“Ok!” Aliyah finally looked up at him and Eliot. “Thanks for letting me pet your dog!” With that, she hurried back over to two women—who Hardison assumed were her parents—who were struggling to control a very boisterous St. Bernard.

Eliot didn’t move for a moment, he just stared after Aliyah, but after a few seconds he seemed to shake himself out of his trance. He mechanically leaned over and clipped Mac’s leash on before he led the way out of the store. Hardison pretended not to notice that Eliot’s hands were shaking.

Hardison waited until they had gotten on the T to break the silence. “You good man?” Eliot glanced in his direction but didn’t meet his eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” Hardison said, trying to lighten the mood. Eliot looked back at Hardison—actually meeting his gaze—and sighed before he replied.

“She reminded me of someone.” Eliot said softly.

Hardison cocked his head to the side. “The girl?”

“Yeah.” He wondered why Eliot had reacted like that, but from the closed off expression on Eliot’s face he knew asking wouldn’t get him anywhere.

“Well, I’m gonna make some popcorn and watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine till Parker gets off work. Then I think we were gonna get takeout. You in?” It took a second for Eliot to focus on Hardison, but when he processed the question he gave a brittle smile.

“Sure.”

They made it back to their building, Eliot leaning very heavily on his cane, and Hardison actually got on the elevator with Eliot—something he’d done his best to avoid since it broke down on them—to head up to their floor.

“I’m just gonna drop some stuff at my place, I’ll be over in a bit.” Eliot said when their reached their apartments.

“Ok, just don’t be too long or I’ll eat all the popcorn.” Hardison joked. Eliot gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and let himself into his apartment, Mac trailing a bit behind. Hardison sighed and went into his own apartment, he gave it no more than a 50/50 chance that Eliot would actually come over.

Hardison took off his jacket and started getting his place ready for movie night. He had three bags of microwave popcorn left, and threw one in the microwave to cook while he cleaned up his couch area a little more. Oh, Hardison still had Eliot’s jacket from when he first found Mac, he meant to give that back a while ago, oops. Although, it did look pretty comfy…

The microwave beeped, and Hardison emptied the bag into a big bowl he got specifically for this very purpose. He then made his way over to the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table while he debated if he should start an episode without Eliot. It wasn’t like Eliot was going to pay much attention anyways, and there was a chance he wouldn’t even come over, but it would be kinda rude to just start an episode… Hardison was saved from making a decision by a knock on his door.

“It’s unlocked!” Hardison called. There was a slight pause before the door opened, and Hardison was almost immediately attacked by a furry creature with a wet tongue. “Oh, hey Mac. I know, I know, it’s been forever since I’ve seen you” Hardison laughed, doing his best to keep her out of the popcorn bowl he had balanced on his lap. Eliot sat down heavily on the couch next to him, and Hardison noted that he had changed into sweatpants.

“So, what have you seen of Brooklyn Nine-Nine?” Hardison asked.

Eliot shrugged. “Never seen it.” He replied, and Hardison shook his head sadly.

“I don’t understand you man. Alright, well it’s a fun show, and I know you’ll like it.” Hardison started an episode and relaxed into the couch. 

Hardison was glad he had picked Brooklyn Nine-Nine and not something more intense. Eliot was zoning in and out, but the had low enough stakes that he didn’t really miss anything. They made it through two whole episodes—each episode was only 30 minutes long—before Eliot spoke.

“Sorry about what happened during puppy kindergarten.” They’d finished the first bag of popcorn and Hardison had paused the show to make some more.

“It’s all good man.” Hardison stepped out of the kitchen and leaned on the wall so he could see Eliot as he waited for the popcorn to be ready.

“I don’t usually, uh, freak out like that.” Eliot admitted, running a hand through his hair.

“We all have our bad days.” The microwave beeped and Hardison quickly emptied the bowl and made his way back to the couch. “You said she reminded you of someone?” Hardison asked as he sat back down. He knew he probably shouldn’t push the conversation, but he was curious. If Eliot shut down the conversation again, Hardison would leave it alone. 

“There was a girl,” Eliot began hesitantly, “I… I was supposed to protect her. Her family. Her father had valuable information.” Eliot paused again and seemed to be considering his words.

“This was when you-” Hardison gestured to Eliot’s leg and he nodded.

“Yeah.” Eliot said, his voice hoarse. “We were supposed to get them all to safety, me and my buddy. But… I only got her out.” Hardison didn’t have to ask to know that his friend didn’t make it out either.

“And this girl looked like Aliyah?” Hardison asked softly. Eliot nodded, not meeting Hardison’s gaze as he stared off into space. Damn, no wonder he’d been struggling during the class, that kind of trigger would make anyone freak out.

Mac seemed to sense the mood, because she got up from her spot on the bean bag to go over to Eliot and gently headbut his leg. Eliot blinked at her in surprise, but then he smiled and leaned over to pick her up and place her on his lap, where she immediately started licking his face.

“Mac,” Eliot grumbled, trying to push her away, but she wasn’t deterred. After a moment or two, once they had gotten settled again, Hardison pushed play on the next episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. 

About halfway through the episode, Parker came bursting into Hardison’s apartment, and Mac immediately abandoned her position on the couch in favor of running over to say hi. Parker obligingly crouched down to pet Mac before she looked up at the TV.

“What are we watching?” Parker asked,

“Brooklyn Nine-Nine.” Hardison answered. Parker moved over to the couch to plop down in the space between Eliot and Hardison on the couch—which was getting crowded—forcing Hardison to duck out of the way of her elbow as she tried to get comfy.

“Ooh, which one?”

“The Mattress.”

“That’s a good one.”

They watched several more episodes in a comfortable silence, the three of them spread out on the couch, with Mac lying by their feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me at a-very-distinctive-ot3 on tumblr!


	12. Chapter 12

“Hardison, I need you to come to the gym with me and Parker.” Hardison looked up from his place on his couch to see Eliot and Parker standing in his hallway looking at him.

“Uh, no thanks. I’ll pass.” He quickly turned back to the game he was playing.

“Dammit Hardison.” Eliot growled. “I need to teach Parker how to defend herself against more than one attacker.”

“So? Other people go to gyms, you can ask someone else.” Hardison replied without looking up.

“Yeah but it’ll be fun!” Hardison glanced over to see Parker looking at him with a smile on her face.

“Look, I don’t care what y’all say, I ain’t going to the gym at 4 in the morning, it’s too goddamn early!” Hardison exclaimed, Eliot sighed and rolled his eyes.

“C’mon Hardison, it’s not like you have a normal sleep schedule anyways.” Parker teased him.

“Yeah well at least I’m trying to fix it!” Parker raised an eyebrow. “You know, more or less.” She still didn’t buy it—and Hardison couldn’t really blame her. Sure, he was _trying_ to fix his sleep schedule, if trying meant telling himself he’d get off the computer and into bed at a reasonable time and then not doing that.

“Look we don’t have to go at 4 in the morning. You can even pick the time.” Eliot offered.

“Do I look like the type of person who goes to the gym?” Hardison scoffed.

“No.”

“Hey!”

“You asked.” Eliot retorted, Hardison glared at him, but he just shrugged.

“I’m not going to the gym, ok? Not. Gonna. Happen.” Hardison stated.

“Dammit Hardison!” Eliot growled again. “Look, if you go with us I’ll go to that damn restaurant of yours.”

“Nice try, but you already agreed to go to McRory’s, so no dice.” Hardison shot back.

“How do you know I wasn’t lying?”

“You wouldn’t!” Hardison gasped.

“You don’t know that.”

Hardison glared at Eliot. “Ok, but if you were lying last time how do I know you’re not lying this time?” Eliot sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Hardison, please? Eliot’s trying to teach me something that could help if James comes back.” Parker pleaded, Hardison glanced over at her and immediately felt all his resolve melt away, but he maintained his glare for another five seconds before he gave in.

“Ugh, fine. Just this once!” A smile broke across Parker’s face and she flapped her hands excitedly.

“Thanks Hardison!”

“Yeah, yeah. So when is this happening then?” Hardison asked as he stretched his arms out to his sides.

“Now.” Eliot said.

“Now? What!? I thought you said I could choose the time!” Hardison exclaimed. It was only then that he realized that both Eliot and Parker were wearing sweatpants, t-shirts, and sneakers, and both had their hair pulled back out of their faces.

“You do get to choose. Now, or in ten minutes.” Eliot said, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“I hate you.” Hardison grumbled.

“No you don’t. Now put on some workout clothes and let’s go.” Hardison rolled his eyes but reluctantly dragged himself to his feet and headed into his bedroom.

* * *

Eliot sighed heavily and rubbed his temples as Hardison bounced around the boxing ring that stood in the middle of the gym. The gym was more crowded than it usually was when Eliot and Parker were there, as it was nearing 6 PM, and several of the other gym members were looking at Hardison in confusion and concern. “Dammit Hardison, can’t you take this seriously?” Eliot growled.

“Excuse you, I am taking this seriously!” Hardison shot back.

“Just… just do what I told you.” Eliot sighed. They’d been at the gym for 30 minutes already, and so far Hardison had been ‘helping’. Mostly he had just gotten in the way. He hadn’t even known how to throw a proper punch!

“How is it that you got this far in life without learning the _smallest_ part of how to defend yourself?” Eliot asked exasperatedly several minutes later as he helped Hardison up off the mat from where Parker had thrown him.

“The key to never getting beat up is to just be friends with everyone.” Hardison gave Eliot a lopsided grin. “It’s a trick I learned in high school, cause that way even if someone _does_ beat you up, there’s a dozen people that will gladly come to your defense.”

“Seriously? That’s your method of self defense? Just be friends with everyone?” Eliot scoffed.

“Worked with you didn’t it?” Hardison asked, a teasing gleam in his eyes. Eliot opened his mouth to argue, but found he didn’t have anything to say, and instead he turned back to Parker.

“So if you have attackers surrounding you,” Eliot said firmly, ignoring Hardison as he laughed at Eliot’s awkward transition.

They continued sparring, and Eliot admitted that Hardison picked things up pretty quickly. Not as fast as Parker had, but Eliot had definitely taught people who didn’t learn as fast as either of them.

“Alright that’s good for today.” Eliot said a little over an hour later. Hardison was gasping for breath and was rubbing the spot on his arm where Parker had repeatedly grabbed him. Eliot could sympathize, he knew from experience that she had a grip like iron.

“Thank god.” Hardison immediately collapsed onto the map, sprawled out like a starfish, which caused both Parker and Eliot to chuckle.

“That was a good start, but next time-”

“What? Next time? I thought this was a one time thing?” Hardison exclaimed, lifting his head off the mat to stare at Eliot in dismay.

“Oh no, we’re doing this again.” Eliot said with a smirk on his face. Hardison groaned and flopped his head back on the ground. “Exercise is good for you.”

“You sound like my Nana.” Hardison grumbled.

“C’mon Hardison, this is good for both of us! We’re learning things!” Parker said, with far too much enthusiasm for someone who had just spent the past hour and a half working out. Eliot had long since learned to never question the boundless amount of energy that Parker always seemed to have. 

“Tell you what, we go to McRory’s tonight and I’ll consider—keyword: _consider_ —doing this torture again.” Hardison said.

“All right, all right. We’ll go to your stupid restauraunt.” Eliot gave in.

“Hey! McRory’s isn’t stupid!” Hardison called out from his place on the ground. 

“Oh! I’ll drive!” Parker offered, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

“No, definitely not.” Eliot immediately vetoed her. She pouted, but Eliot didn’t relent. “I know where McRory’s is and it’s close enough to walk to.” Eliot said firmly.

“Fine, I guess we can be boring.”

* * *

The moment they stepped into the pub, Parker was assaulted with noise. People were crowded around the bar, cheering on whatever game was playing on the crappy little TV’s that were suspended from the ceiling. 

Hardison led the way up to the hostess stand where Cora—the owner of the place—was waiting.

“Hey, look who’s back! It had been so long I thought something had happened to you!” Cora joked. 

“Can’t keep us away.” Hardison replied with an easy smile. “Could we have a table for 3? Maybe a little farther away from-” a loud cheer went up from the bar and cut Hardison off, “that?” He said with a laugh.

“No problem! Right this way.” Cora snagged three menus and led them to the back of the pub. As they walked, Parker realized that though it initially looked really crowded, most people were surrounding the bar, so there was actually a number of open tables. Cora led them to a booth in the back corner and set down the menus. Eliot immediately took the side of the booth that faced the door, and after a moment’s hesitation, Parker slid into the other side next to Hardison. Part of her wanted to be able to keep an eye on the door too, but she trusted Eliot to watch her back.

“All right, your server will be with you in just a minute.” Cora said cheerfully before she disappeared back to the front of the pub.

“This is an interesting place.” Eliot said as he eyed the crowd that surrounded the bar.

“Yeah it is! Best food in town!” Hardison said. He was scanning the menu intently, even though Parker knew he got the same exact thing every single time they came here.

“And it used to be a thief bar?” Eliot asked skeptically.

“Yeah! Apparently back in the day, both the cops and the mob would frequent this place, you never knew who you could be sitting next to!” Parker said excitedly. She had heard her fair share of stories about McRory’s from both Nate and Archie, though she got the impression they hadn’t been on the same side.

“Seems like a recipe for disaster.” Eliot commented.

“It was! Apparently bar fights would break out all the time.” Parker sighed and stared wistfully at the crowded bar. She could just imagine an off duty cop and a thief getting into an argument about sports or something else equally trivial, and suddenly one person would break a stool over someone else’s head and all hell would break loose.

“You ever been in a bar fight?” Hardison asked, bringing Parker’s attention back to their table.

“Yeah, I’ve been in my fair share.” Eliot chuckled. “Back home my family had an annual Christmas bar brawl. Me, my siblings, cousins, even a few aunts and uncles would join in.”

“That sounds awful.” Hardison said.

“That sounds amazing!” Parker exclaimed at the same time.

“It was all in good fun. No one got seriously hurt, no hard feelings. It was just a tradition. The Spencer family bar brawl.” Eliot sighed and shook his head. “Haven’t been in one of those for years.”

“Well you said you haven’t been home in a while, right?” Parker asked. Hardison shot her a look she couldn’t quite figure out, but Eliot just nodded slowly.

“Not in a few years.” Eliot answered. “But even before then, well, I tried to stay out of them once I joined the army. Didn’t want to actually hurt anyone. Course, whenever we played tackle football I was the first pick.” He laughed, but there was still something hanging in the air that Parker couldn’t identify.

Their server, John—a bigger guy with a large bushy beard and a kind smile—chose that moment to show up at their table. Hardison ordered his orange soda as usual, while Parker got a lemonade and Eliot stuck with water.

They sat in silence for a little longer before Hardison spoke again. “So, tackle football. Did you play a lot of sports in high school then?”

“Oh, yeah. Football, wrestling, even played baseball for a year but it’s never been a sport I really liked so-”

“Hang on, you don’t like baseball?” Hardison asked incredulously.

“Not really.” Eliot admitted. “I don’t like any sport you can’t score on defense.”

Hardison gaped at Eliot for a moment. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.” He said as he shook his head.

Eliot chuckled. “Spring was also the time I had to help out at the barn. The horses there-”

“Horses?” Parker looked up suddenly.

“Uh, yeah.” Eliot seemed confused by her sudden interest. “Family friends had a barn so I had to help out with the horses after their dad got into an accident.”

“Did a horse cause the accident?” She asked suspiciously.

“No? He got into a car crash.” Eliot tilted his head quizzically.

Parker shuddered. “I don’t like horses.”

“That’s understandable, a lot of people don’t. They can be kind of intimidating if you-”

“I once saw a horse kill a clown.” Parker stated. Eliot trailed off in the middle of his sentence and stared at her for a moment, his mouth hanging open. He looked like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to believe her or not, and he looked at Hardison for confirmation. Hardison, however, was also staring at her in disbelief.

“How have I not heard that story before? A horse killed a clown? Parker what the-” Hardison cut himself off when their server came back with their drinks.

“Here you go. Now do you folks know what you want?” John asked, pulling out a pen and a notepad.

“Uh, yeah, could I get a pizza with tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese, then add anchovies and pineapple please? And a side of home fries?” Hardison asked.

“Sure thing, and you?” John turned to Parker.

“Could I have the mac and cheese and hot dog combo?” Parker asked, pointing out the item on the menu.

“Alright, and what can I get you?” John asked Eliot.

“What would you recommend?”

“Well,” John scratched his chin for a moment and thought. “If you want a starter, the calamari is pretty good. If you just want an entree I’d recommend the pulled pork sandwich or the pub sliders.”

“Could I have the calamari as a side?”

“Sure.”

“Ok, then I’ll go with the pulled pork sandwich with the calamari as a side, thanks.” Eliot handed his menu to Hardison—who had already stacked Parker’s menu on top of his—and sat back.

“Alright, you got it!” John took their menus and disappeared back into the kitchen. Parker felt both Hardison and Eliot looking at her for another minute or so, but neither said anything and she just sipped her lemonade.

“Anchovy and pineapple? Really?” Eliot asked Hardison eventually, breaking the silence.

“Hey! It’s a classic!” Hardison retorted.

“It’s not!” Eliot argued. “It sounds disgusting!”

“Tell you what, you can have some of my _delicious_ pizza when it gets here so you know how not gross it is.” Hardison sipped from his wine glass full of orange soda, and both Eliot and Parker rolled their eyes.

“Did you ever do sports in high school?” Eliot asked Parker, changing the subject abruptly.

“Not… really.” She replied. “Hardison did though.”

“You did?” Eliot turned an inquisitive eye on Hardison, who immediately started stammering.

“Well- not really, I was never in ‘sports’, but I did other things like- well I was on the chess team, the debate team, and I did robotics club.” Hardison smiled sheepishly. “I mean some of my siblings were on the football team so I went to the games, but I never actually participated…” Hardison trailed off. They continued to talk for awhile about various things until their food arrived. 

As much as Parker defended Palermo’s—they were better in almost every way to McRory’s—she had to admit, nothing could live up to McRory’s mac and cheese. It was amazing every single time. They ate in silence for a moment, each enjoying their own meal, when Parker caught Eliot staring at Hardison’s pizza with a look of repulsion on his face. Oblivious to the way Eliot was looking at him, Hardison continued to happily eat his pizza. Eliot glanced over and caught Parker staring at her, and he just shook his head.

“Do you get that every time you come here?” Eliot asked incredulously. Hardison glanced up from his meal and smiled as wide as he could with a mouth full of food.

Hardison took a moment to swallow before he responded. “Yup! It’s actually really good, do you want a slice?” Hardison offered his plate to Eliot, who looked at the pizza suspiciously—like he thought it might poison him. Eliot hesitantly accepted a slice, glancing over at Parker once before he leaned in and sniffed it.

“You don’t gotta smell it man.” Hardison rolled his eyes. “Just eat it! It’s good!”

“Somehow I doubt that.” Eliot muttered, but he went ahead and took a bite anyways. He chewed a few times before he stopped, his expression twisting into one of disgust. His nose scrunched up and he looked like he wanted to do nothing more than spit out the bite he had taken. 

“You don’t like it?” Hardison asked, somehow managing to sound hurt even though he was struggling to hide a shit eating grin. Eliot forced himself to swallow the pizza and immediately reached forward to grab Hardison's soda and downed the rest of the glass.

“Hey!” Hardison exclaimed indignantly.

“That’s disgusting.” Eliot said eventually. “I can’t- how do you even eat that?”

“Look man, just because you don’t have a refined taste pallet doesn’t mean you get to shit on my food.” Hardison shot back. 

“Refined-? Hardison that’s _inedible_.”

“And you drank all my soda!”

“I had to get the taste out of my mouth.” Parker rolled her eyes as Hardison and Eliot continued bickering.

“It’s not that bad! C’mon, Parker you agree with me right?” Hardison turned to her for support.

“What? No, I’m not part of this argument.” She said quickly, shaking her head. 

Eliot looked at her, aghast. “You can’t seriously think that’s good food?”

“It’s not the worst thing in the world?” Parker admitted with a shrug, and Eliot shook his head.

“No, no that’s it. I’m going to make you guys eat _real_ food and then see how you feel about this monstrosity.” Eliot grumbled.

“You offering to make us dinner?” Hardison asked teasingly.

Eliot glared at him. “Don’t test me.”

There was a moment of silence as they all resumed eating their own food. “You gonna finish that slice?” Hardison asked, motioning to the pizza that Eliot had dropped onto the side of his plate, like he was afraid it was going to contaminate the rest of his food.

“It’s all yours.” Eliot said. Hardison reached forward to snag the slice, biting into it with exaggerated enjoyment. They continued to talk as they ate, and the conversation eventually turned to school. 

“You didn’t go to college?” Eliot asked Hardison in surprise.

“Nah, it was too expensive, you know? My Nana couldn’t afford it.” Hardison shrugged nonchalantly, but Parker knew him well enough to see the underlying tension in his shoulders. 

“I just figured a guy as smart as you would’ve gotten a scholarship or something.” Eliot mused.

“I mean I got a few offers but none good enough to make me feel okay about dropping that much money while my Nana still had other kids in the house.” Hardison rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “I also didn’t do that well in high school. I mean I passed everything, but most of the classes were just so boring. Doing well on tests only gets you so far if you never do the homework.” He said, a wry twist to his words. “I still got a good job though, so I don’t think I missed out on too much.” He chuckled.

“What about you Parker?” Eliot asked, and she froze for a moment.

“I didn’t do college.” She said eventually. “I didn’t really do a lot of high school, either.” She added quietly. Eliot cocked his head to the side and opened his mouth to ask something else, but Parker plowed forward. “The foster system doesn’t do a great job of keeping your education consistent, so I switched schools a lot. By the time I met Archie I was already 15. He was retired by that point, but still stole stuff occasionally so he taught me-”

“Hang on, he did what?” Eliot cut in.

“Archie, my foster… dad, is a retired thief. Well he said he was retired but still taught me how to steal—pickpocket and pick locks and simple stuff. I knew most of it already but he showed me some more advanced techniques. He brought me home to his wife and his daughter but it didn’t- I never really fit in there. I was enrolled in high school but almost never went. But I learned a lot about cars, so after I didn’t graduate, I just started working. College never seemed that important.” Parker shrugged.

“Yeah, college ain’t for everyone.” Eliot agreed. “I mean, I never wanted to go, but my little brother? It’s all he ever wanted. I still feel a little bad about leaving him. When I went and joined the army he got stuck keeping the family business afloat. He got out, eventually. Took a couple years but last I heard he was at a college in New York, trying to get a triple major or something else equally insane.” Eliot shook his head fondly and stared into the distance for a moment.

“Do you regret joining the army?” Parker asked after a moment of silence passed. Hardison shot her a look, but she continued to watch Eliot. He blew out a deep breath and leaned back in his seat, considering the question. Parker wasn’t really expecting him to answer, she figured he would say something evasive like he normally did when questioned about his past, so she was surprised when he actually responded.

“The army gave me a lot of opportunities.” Eliot said carefully. “Some were good, some were… not so good.” Eliot paused for a moment. “If I hadn’t joined the army, I doubt I would’ve gone more than 50 miles from my hometown. A lot of people didn’t, and they liked it that way.” It was still evasive, but less so than Parker was expecting. Still didn’t answer the question though.

“But would you change-” She started, but Eliot cut her off with a quick shake of his head.

“There’s no point in agonizing over past decisions. What’s done is done. I can’t change my past but I can change my future.” Parker nodded, satisfied, but Eliot wasn’t done speaking. “I think I got out at a good time though. Not that I wanted to go out like this-” Eliot gestured to his cane which was leaned against the wall in the corner of his seat. “But I think if I had stayed in the army much longer I wouldn’t have liked the man I would become.” 

They descended into silence for a minute, Eliot frowning slightly as he stared off into space, like he could see alternate versions of himself and wasn’t happy with who they were. What would’ve happened if Eliot hadn’t gotten so injured? If he had managed to stay in the army? Parker doubted they would’ve met, and she tried to imagine who else could’ve moved into his apartment. Would she have been friends with them? It would be like that one Doctor Who episode that Hardison showed her, Turn Left, where you change one small decision in your life and suddenly the entire world changes. Parker wondered if she and Eliot and Hardison ever met in a different universe, and if they did she wondered if they would’ve been friends. Was there a universe where Hardison never met his Nana? Where Parker never met Archie?

Parker shuddered, she didn’t want to think about that.

“If you hadn’t joined the army, what would have done with your life?” Hardison asked, breaking the awkward silence that had settled over them.

“I mean, I would’ve ended up keeping my dad’s business from going bust.” Eliot stated matter of factly.

“Ok but if you could choose to have done anything with your life, what would you have done?” Parker questioned. Eliot shot her a tired look but responded anyways.

“Probably would’ve tried to become a chef. I mean, it’s what I’m doing now.” Eliot shrugged. “If being a mechanic wasn’t an option for you, what would you have done?” He asked, turning the question back to her. She didn’t even hesitate.

“I would’ve been a thief.” She stated. Eliot looked at her in surprise while Hardison just sighed. “I mean, I was halfway there when Archie found me, and he taught me some thief stuff but convinced me to ‘do something more with my life.’” Parker rolled her eyes. “He wanted me to fit in, not that it ever worked.” She added as an afterthought.

“How did you meet Archie, exactly?” Eliot asked.

“I tried to lift his wallet and he caught me.”

“O...kay?” 

They continued talking for a while longer until they were all finished with their meals—though Parker finished off Eliot’s calamari.

“So what did you think of the food?” She asked him as he leaned back in his seat.

“Well, compared to other greasy bar food, it was actually pretty good.” Eliot started.

“Ha! Told you!” Hardison exclaimed.

Eliot shot him a look and continued. “For a _bar_ , it has good food. In comparison to Palermo’s… well it’s hard to compare because they’re not the same type of restaurant, but I gave Palermo’s a 3.8/5, and I’d give McRory’s…” Eliot paused, considering, and both Parker and Hardison waited with bated breath. “3 stars.” He said finally.

“Yes! Told you!” Parker threw her hands into the air. “Palermo’s _is_ superior restaurant!”

“Now hang on, McRory’s isn’t _that_ bad.” Hardison complained, Eliot shot him a look.

“I took off a quarter of a star for the disaster that was your pizza.” Eliot deadpanned.

“Well that’s just not fair! You can’t judge all of McRory’s for my pizza! Which, by the way, is still a good pizza.” Hardison added, but Eliot just rolled his eyes. “And McRory’s is so much livelier! Palermo’s is so boring compared to here!” Hardison gestured to the bar, and while most of the people had cleared out, there was still a number of people left.

“What McRory’s lacks in food, it makes up for with atmosphere. Happy now?” Eliot asked, one eyebrow raised as he looked at Hardison.

“Fine, I guess.” Hardison muttered as he angrily began stacking their dishes. Eliot chuckled but actually moved to help Hardison clean up their table. Hardison looked up in surprise, but didn’t complain, and between the two of them their table was organized in record time.

“Alright, let’s flag down the waiter and get the check. I gotta get back and take Mac out.” Eliot said. Parker gasped suddenly, causing both Eliot and Hardison to look at her in concern.

“I should’ve saved some mac and cheese for Mac!” Parker exclaimed. “That would’ve been so cool!”

“That would’ve been cannibalism.” Hardison pointed out.

Parker frowned. “Not cannibalism in a _bad_ way.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look! Another chapter!  
> I know I said I was going to try to update every other week, but classes got in the way...  
> Also, I'm not going to be able to update again until December at least. This is partly because my term ends on the 22nd, so we're heading into finals season. And also because I'm actually going to be working on this fic for NaNoWriMo, so I won't be able to edit much. The good thing about that is that when I am able to post again, I'll (hopefully) have a whole lot more written, so you can look forward to that!  
> Anyway, enjoy this chapter, it'll be a while before I can post another one.

Eliot couldn’t sleep. Again.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t fall asleep, he could make himself fall asleep almost anywhere, but the nightmares kept waking him up. He’d gone to another puppy kindergarten class with Hardison earlier that day, and the girl, Aliyah, had been there. He didn’t freak out as badly as he had the first time, but it still wasn’t a great experience. Mac had decided to actually run around and play with the other dogs, so at least she was asleep. She had started the night at the foot of his bed, but when Eliot had gotten up to move to the kitchen, she followed, and was now spread out on his couch, even though she had a perfectly fine dog bed right there on the floor. Eliot was perched on one of the stools at his counter with a mug of hot tea in his hands, watching Mac sleep while his mind wandered and he debated whether or not he should cook something.

He was kind of hungry, but he didn’t think his brain was working enough to follow a complicated recipe right now. He could make something simple, but that required standing up, and his lack of energy outweighed his hunger.

Mac’s ears perked up suddenly, and she twisted into a sitting position to stare at the door. Eliot tilted his head and listened, and after a few seconds he heard another knock on his door. He had to stop the fond smile that came across his face, how the hell did Parker know which nights he wasn’t asleep? It was like she had a sixth sense that was directly linked to Eliot and his nightmares. She didn’t even come over every time he couldn’t sleep, there were nights he couldn’t sleep and she could, and he was sure there were nights where he could sleep while she stayed up. Still, this sort of thing happened often enough that Eliot knew it was her. Who else would it be?

Slowly, Eliot got to his feel and made his way over to the door, his cane clicking loudly in the otherwise silent apartment. He still peered through the peephole for a moment before he opened the door, just to make sure it was actually her. It was, with a look in her eyes that came with the nights she didn’t talk. Eliot unlocked the door and it swung open, revealing a tired looking Parker. She smiled halfheartedly at him and stepped into his apartment, leaving him to close the door after her.

The moment she stepped through the threshold, Mac flung herself off the couch and raced over to Parker, her tail wagging excitedly as she ran circles around their feet. Eliot was just grateful that Mac almost never barked, because if she did Eliot was pretty sure Nate would’ve made him get rid of her ages ago. 

“You hungry?” Eliot asked, keeping his voice soft. Parker looked up from where she was petting Mac, and took a moment to process his words before she nodded. Eliot nodded back and went into the kitchen to start pulling out ingredients. “Pancakes or french toast?” He asked, turning back to look at her. She hesitated for a moment before she held up two fingers. French toast it was.

Eliot got out all the ingredients and put the eggs, milk, cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla into a medium sized mixing bowl. He offered the bowl to Parker and she took it, whisking the mixture as she stared off into space. Eliot took the time to put a skillet on the stove to start heating up, and he also pulled out a loaf of bread to cut six thick slices. Though his depth perception wasn’t perfect, and never would be perfect, he had gotten used to some aspects of only having one eye. He had gotten better at cutting bread and vegetables, and while he had to pay more attention than other people had to, he had done it enough that it was almost seamless.

Working together, they coated the bread in the egg mixture, and one by one Eliot placed the slices onto the stove. He made two pieces before he offered the spatula to Parker, but she shook her head so Eliot cooked them all himself.

Parker got out plates for them, and Eliot tried not to think about the fact that Parker knew exactly where he kept all his plates and silverware, and instead just placed the finished pieces onto one of the plates. She stole the first piece immediately, biting into it even though it had to still be very hot. Eliot gave her a halfhearted glare, but she just smirked at him. Eventually all of the pieces were done, and Eliot pulled out whipped cream, some local maple syrup, and fresh berries. 

Parker drowned her toast in syrup, as usual, before she piled whipped cream and berries on top. Eliot was glad she hadn’t noticed that he didn’t use the whipped cream. It was the kind that came out of a can and tasted like chemicals and air, but Parker liked it, so Eliot made sure to always have some. 

Watching Parker inhale the berries, he couldn’t help but think about how this was probably the only time all week she was going to eat fresh fruit. How she and Hardison managed to survive on nothing but sugar, Eliot would never know.

“You and Hardison don’t have great diets, do you?” The question was out of Eliot’s mouth before he could really think about it, though he already knew the answer. Parker paused in the middle of a bite of her toast to blink at him a few times before she shrugged. “Well, I cook a lot, and I always have a lot of leftovers.” Parker tilted her head quizzically, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “On nights that I’m not busy, if you and Hardison don’t want to eat takeout or if you want real food, you guys could come over and I could cook an actual meal?” Eliot offered. Parker didn’t answer immediately, and Eliot felt himself start to panic. 

“I mean it can’t be healthy for you two to live off orange soda and fruit loops and junk food and I cook a fair amount and almost never finish everything I make, and that way I’d also have someone to test new dishes on…” Eliot trailed off and cleared his throat again. “Only if you want to, but-” Parker broke into a wide smile and nodded her head vigorously, and Eliot felt himself start to relax.

“Ok, great, just give me a heads up or something so I can prepare.” Eliot ran a hand through his hair as Parker nodded again, and they spend the rest of the meal eating in silence. 

There was a smile on Parker’s face, and before she left he gave her the last slice of french toast.

* * *

If anyone asked, Eliot would say he was surprised at how fast Parker and Hardison barged their way into his life. But if he was being honest with himself? He would realize he wasn’t all that surprised.

Good thing he wasn’t honest with himself.

He couldn’t pinpoint when, exactly, dinner at his place became a Thing, only that he looked up one day and realized that in the past two weeks, he’d only had dinner alone twice, and both times it was because he’d had to teach a night class.

At first, Eliot told himself he was only making dinner for Parker and Hardison so that they wouldn’t poison themselves with the junk food they ate constantly. But that facade barely lasted three days before they broke it down too.

The truth was, Eliot enjoyed their company. He enjoyed the way the three of them could talk effortlessly about anything. The way Parker cooked with him often enough that there were times she could guess what he wanted without him even having to ask. The way that Hardison tried to help and mostly got in the way, but Eliot still never kicked him out of the kitchen.

The way the two of them intrinsically knew what nights Eliot wasn’t up for making dinner, and would drag him over to Hardison’s apartment for movie night and take out. And how Eliot wasn’t allowed to complain about their choice of food.

The way Eliot was slowly learning what foods each of them didn’t like, and was finding ways to work those foods into dishes in a way that they would actually eat.

The fact that one day, Parker showed up at his apartment with a table, an actual kitchen table, and helped him set it up in his living room so they had somewhere to sit and eat that wasn’t the stools at the counter. The fact that the table, while small, blocked the view of the TV from the couch, but they all knew it didn’t matter because anytime Eliot was watching TV he was at Hardison’s apartment anyways.

The way Hardison recognized he was a hindrance more than a help in the kitchen, and took it upon himself to take Mac out if she whined while Eliot and Parker were cooking.

The way that Eliot, when he knew he wouldn’t be around for dinner the next night, would make sure to cook extra food so Parker and Hardison would have something healthy to eat while he was gone.

The way Eliot felt when the three of them crowded around his tiny table, eating and laughing while Mac sat at their feet and waited to be fed scraps. 

The fact that it was the closest thing he’d felt to family since before he joined the army.

* * *

“What’s a weird talent you have that nobody knows about?” Parker asked. They were all crowded around the small table in Eliot's apartment, eating dinner together. It happened so often it had become part of their routine at this point, so ingrained Parker could scarcely imagine _not_ doing it. Sure, there were a few nights when they didn’t make dinner together, because Eliot was teaching a night class or none of them were feeling up to it, but those were in the minority.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure you know everything I can do at this point.” Hardison said with a laugh.

“Ok, but what’s something Eliot doesn’t know you can do?” Parker said. Both Hardison and Eliot were silent for a moment as they thought, until Eliot looked over at her.

“Well, what’s something you can do?” He asked. Parker hesitated for a moment, trying to remember what things she had already told Eliot.

“I can draw.” She said finally. Eliot raised an eyebrow in surprise and looked like he was going to say something when Hardison started talking.

“Oh yeah, Parker can draw like nobody's business. She can make detailed sketches of people after only having seen them for like one minute.” Hardison said, waving his hands wildly. Parker smiled and shifted in her seat. She always felt uncomfortable when Hardison started talking about what she could do, but it was a good kind of uncomfortable. It was an uncomfortable born out of the fact that he actually paid attention to her and listened, which was nice.

“Really?” Eliot asked, turning to look at Parker. “I’d like to see some of your sketches, if you ever felt like sharing them.”

Parker hesitated for a moment, she didn’t share her sketches with most people, even Hardison had only seen a few, but she found herself nodding anyways. “Okay.” Eliot had said before that when he cooked he was expressing himself, allowing others into his head for just a moment. He shared that with them, so Parker figured she could share her drawings too.

“I used to play the violin.” Hardison announced proudly, drawing both Parker and Eliot’s attention.

Parker cocked her head to the side. “You did? How come I didn’t know that?”

“Oh, well,” Hardison rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “it was a long time ago, I wasn’t even in high school yet. And it was only for like two years.” Hardison gave her a lopsided grin, and they both turned to look at Eliot.

“I used to play guitar.” Eliot offered finally.

“Really?” Parker asked.

Eliot nodded slowly. “Yeah, from when I was a kid all the way up through high school.” He chuckled. “I was pretty good at it too, if I do say so myself.”

“You should get a guitar.” Parker said suddenly.

“I should- what? No.” Eliot laughed. “I’m not-”

“Yeah, you should!” Hardison agreed.

Eliot looked back and forth between the two of them, looking a bit like a cornered dog. “Hardison should get a violin.” He said, trying to distract her. It worked, because Parker turned her attention on Hardison.

“You should get a violin.” Parker repeated.

“Look, you don’t want to hear me try to play the violin. I played for two years in middle school, and I wasn’t even good then. I doubt my skills have gotten better with age.” Hardison said sarcastically. “Eliot, you did say you were good at guitar.”

“I wasn’t that good.” Eliot said, desperately trying to backtrack.

“Yeah but you played for a long time.” Parker said, rounding on him again. “You should get a guitar!”

“No, I’m not…” Eliot faltered in the face of both Parker and Hardison’s intense gaze.

“You’re getting a guitar.” Parker stated, leaving no room for argument.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back! I know I haven't posted in a while, so thank you all for being patient while I work on this fic. I did manage to write a solid chunk during nanowrimo (not as much as I wanted to but oh well), but it's taking me a really long time to type all of it up so it might be a little longer until I can post another chapter. I also will probably be going back and making some minor edits to past chapters, so keep an eye out for that!

“Hey man, so I’ve been doing some research on different dog parks in the area—which by the way there are a  _ lot _ —and I’ve found a couple places pretty close to here.” Hardison and Eliot were hanging out in Hardison’s apartment—no surprise there—spread out on his couch. Well, Hardison was stretched out on the couch, his feet resting on the coffee table as he fucked around on his phone. Eliot was sitting next to him, trying to read and taking up a lot less space. Parker had taken Mac out for a quick walk so the dog could go to the bathroom, which was what had prompted Hardison’s search.

Every time Hardison or Parker took Mac out, be it for a simple bathroom break or for a longer walk, Eliot always had a guilty expression on his face, and he always tried to tell them he could take her out just fine. Which was bullshit and they all knew it. But Eliot felt bad, so Hardison figured he should try to find a dog park. Somewhere Eliot could take Mac to just run around off leash where he didn’t have to keep up with her.

“What?” Eliot looked up from his book and removed his reading glasses—which Hardison privately thought were adorable, not that he would  _ ever  _ tell Eliot that.

“There’s a park nearby, St. Nick’s Garden, it’s pretty close, and they have a whole area fenced off so dogs can run around. It looks cool.” Hardison sat up straighter and moved to show Eliot the pictures he had found online.

“Hmm.” Eliot hummed noncommittally as he scrolled through the pictures.

“Is that a ‘sounds good’ hmm or an ‘I’m not interested’ hmm?” Hardison asked with a grin.

Eliot rolled his eyes and gave Hardison back his phone. “‘Sounds good’ hmm.” Eliot said. “I think I’ve seen that place before, it’s on the way to the school.”

“Oh, perfect! We can try to go there after Parker gets back.”

Parker returned not long after, and so the three of them—plus Mac—headed out to the dog park. It was only a couple blocks away, and if it was on the way to Eliot’s work, then it wouldn’t be too far for him to go there on a regular basis.

“Wait, Saint Nick like Santa?” Parker asked when they reached the park. She was staring at the small sign that was placed at one of the gates that led to the fenced in area.

“He’s not Santa Claus.” Eliot said as he stepped into the area. Mac strained against her leash and Eliot had to struggle to keep his hold on her. 

“Then who is he?” Parker asked, shutting the gate behind them. Eliot reached down to unclip Mac’s leash and she was off like a shot, tearing around the wide open space.

“Saint Nick? I think he’s the patron saint of thieves or something.” Hardison said as they made their way farther into the open area. He had never gone to church much as a kid, so he didn’t really know. 

An excited gleam entered Parkers eyes. “I didn’t realize thieves had a saint.”

“Technically he’s the patron saint of repentant thieves, among other things.” Eliot added.

“Oh,” Parker frowned in disappointment, “that’s still cool though.” They stood in silence for a bit, watching Mac as she raced around the field. Mac had gotten quite a bit bigger in the month that Eliot had had her, and though there were a couple other dogs around, she ignored them in favor of just running. Hardison couldn’t help but laugh as she bowled into their legs, tripping over her feet as she ran around in circles. Luckily, Hardison had the foresight to grab a tennis ball from Eliot’s apartment, so they each threw that for Mac a few times.

Hardison couldn’t help but notice that several other dog owners had a weird toy thing that made throwing tennis balls easier. They were these long plastic sticks with a cup on the end that was the perfect size to pick up a ball so you didn’t have to bend over every time. It also looked like they made throwing the ball farther a lot easier. Glancing back at Eliot, Hardison watched as he leaned heavily on his cane in order to pick up the ball from where Mac had dropped it.

“I bet I could find a way to attach one of those things to your cane.” Hardison said, motioning towards the ball throwing sticks. Eliot looked where Hardison was pointing, then looked down at his cane, and shook his head.

“Don’t bother.” Eliot replied.

“What? Why not?”

“Cause this one’s about a month away from breaking anyways.”

“How often do you break your canes anyways?” Parker asked, tilting her head.

“Not that often, but more often than I’d like. This is my third cane, but I haven’t even been using them for a year yet.” Eliot shrugged as he threw another ball for Mac. 

“Ever think about getting a sturdier cane that doesn’t break so often?” Hardison asked. Eliot sighed and looked down at the cane in his hand. It was one of those crappy metal ones that you could buy for really cheap at Rite Aid. 

“No, those are too expensive. This one,” Eliot tapped his cane against the ground, “is good enough. I could be using a stick I found in the woods and it’d work just as well.”

“But it might be nice to have a cane that doesn’t break constantly.” Hardison pointed out.

“I don’t think about it that much.”

“But don’t you-”

“Hardison.” Eliot cut Hardison off with a glare. Hardison rolled his eyes and left the topic alone, but he didn’t stop thinking about it. Why did Eliot insist on not getting a nicer cane? One that lasted for more than a few months? One that he could attach a ball throwing thing to? Hardison could probably figure out how to add some other cool stuff to Eliot’s cane too. Like a taser. Or a knife.

* * *

“Oh man, I am so tired.” Hardison announced loudly from his seat on the couch. Eliot glanced up briefly before he focused back on Mac, he had been trying to teach her ‘down’ for the past half hour or so and it had been going well.

“Hardison, it’s one o’clock. You’ve only been up for two hours.” Eliot said as he tried to keep Mac’s attention on him.

“Yeah but I could really use a  _ coffee _ .” The way Hardison stressed the word coffee made Eliot pause and look up. Hardison wasn’t even looking at him, instead he was exchanging some sort of silent conversation with Parker.

“Yes, we should get coffee.” Parker said, over enunciating her words as she spoke.

Eliot frowned. “What are you-” He began.

“I heard about this really great coffee shop, it’s called the Riverside Cafe, that’s supposed to have really great coffee that tastes amazing and is, uh, really great.” Hardison spoke over Eliot. 

“That sounds like a cool place! We should go there! We can even take Mac with us!” Parker chimed in.

“I don’t-” Eliot tried to say.

“Cool! Are we ready? Alright let’s go!” Hardison didn’t wait for a response, instead he grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch and stood up. Parker also got up off the couch and quickly stuffed her feet into her shoes. Eliot watched them for a moment, trying to figure out what exactly was going on, before he gave in and grabbed his jacket and Mac’s leash.

“Is this somewhere I can drive us to?” Parker asked when they made it down to the ground level.

“Nope, no, definitely not. We can walk.” Hardison replied firmly, which Eliot was grateful for.

As they walked, Eliot kept looking at Parker and Hardison, expecting them to do something. They were obviously planning something, and Eliot didn’t like being led to a place he didn’t know. At one point, Hardison became very engrossed with something on his phone, and Eliot dropped back so he could walk by Parker.

“What are you guys planning?” Eliot asked quietly, making sure Hardison couldn’t hear him.

“I don’t know.” Parker replied evasively. Eliot glared at her.

“Parker.”

“I don’t know!” She repeated.

Eliot tilted his head curiously. “You are planning something though, right?”

“Yeah.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Eliot opened his mouth to say something else when Parker continued, “Hardison won’t tell me.” That made Eliot pause, it didn’t  _ seem _ like she was lying to him, though she was very good at lying when she wanted to, but he somehow felt like she was telling the truth. Which meant Hardison was planning something all by himself, without asking for Parker’s help. Eliot didn’t know which one he preferred.

When they finally arrived at the coffee shop, Eliot wasn’t impressed. It was very small, and quaint, in a run down sort of way, but it didn’t look like a place he would go out of his way to go to. It was on the river, next to a small stretch of green grass with various benches that dotted the riverside, there were some people sitting on a few of the benches, but it was mostly empty.

“Hardison why did you bring us here-” Eliot started to move towards the coffee shop when he was suddenly pulled across the street by Parker and Hardison. “Where are we going? The coffee shop’s right there.” Hardison didn’t answer him, and instead just waved his hand excitedly in the air.

“Hey Nate!” Hardison called out. Eliot finally looked across the street where he was being dragged, and instantly recognized their landlord.

“Is that- dammit Hardison.” Eliot growled. Nate turned around, and so did the woman he was sitting with.

“Parker! Hardison!” The woman called out as they approached. Her british accent was a surprise, but he had a guess as to who she was. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in months!” The woman smiled, and Parker moved in for a quick hug. It barely lasted a second, but it was a hug, which surprised Eliot.

“It’s been awhile.” Parker admitted as she stepped back.

“And you are- ?” The woman turned to Eliot.

“Eliot Spencer.” He introduced himself, deftly moving Mac’s leash to his other hand so he could shake hers. “You must be Sophie, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“You have?” Sophie asked, arching an eyebrow in surprise. “And what exactly have you heard of me?”

Eliot only hesitated for a moment before answering. “Well… I know you’re friends with the owners of Palermo’s.”

“Oh, Teresa and Ray! It’s a lovely restaurant don’t you think?” Sophie exclaimed, and Eliot nodded in agreement.

“Eliot’s a cook.” Parker cut in, nudging Eliot with her elbow. “He’s really good and he says that Palermo’s is better than McRory’s.”

“I’m not that much of a cook-” Eliot started to protest.

“Is this the dog you were telling me about?” Nate finally spoke, glaring at Hardison as he did so, who didn’t even flinch.

“Yeah! Her name’s Mac. She’s really cute right?” Hardison said. Up until that point Mac had just been sniffing around their feet, but the moment she heard her name she looked up at them and cocked her head to the side.

“Oh Nate, she’s adorable.” Sophie crooned, reaching down to pet Mac.

“I thought you said you were only keeping her until you found her owners?” Nate asked pointedly. Eliot opened his mouth to respond, but Hardison beat him to it.

“See, that was the plan. We put up flyers with her picture on them, and even filed a report with the local animal shelter! But no one came forward, and we weren’t just gonna throw her on the street again.” Hardison explained. When he put it that way, it seemed fairly logical, but Eliot knew that Nate was still their landlord, and if he said that Mac had to leave, Mac would have to leave.

“We’ve been taking her to puppy kindergarten classes!” Parker chimed in.

“We? Who is this we? You haven’t even come yet. It’s been me and Eliot every time.” Hardison protested.

“Hardison,” Nate cut in, “pets are not allowed-”

“Nate, can’t you make an exception? Just this once?” Sophie asked. She put her hand on Nate’s arm and the two of them seemed to have some sort of silent argument, which consisted mostly of Sophie batting her eyelashes. Finally Nate sighed.

“Fine. But if any of the other tenants complain, it’s gone.” Nate stated firmly.

“You got it!” Hardison replied cheerfully. Nate pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

“So, you’re a cook. Where do you work?” Sophie asked Eliot, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over them.

“Well I’m actually a teacher at the Heath Institute for Kids.” Eliot responded.

“You are? Do you know Toby?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m actually good friends with him. Do you know him?” Eliot asked, tilting his head in surprise.

“I wouldn’t say I know him personally, I’ve never actually met him, but a few kids from his culinary school also perform at the theater I run.” Sophie said arily.

“Dolan’s, right?”

“So they  _ have _ told you about me.” Sophie teased, smiling at Parker and Hardison.

Nate cleared his throat pointedly. “Well we’d better be going.”

“Oh, yes of course.” Sophie looped her arm through Nate’s and whispered back to the three of them “he doesn’t like having his morning coffee interrupted.” She winked at them and the two of them walked off. As soon as the two of them were out of earshot, Eliot shoved Hardison.

“Hey, what was that for?” Hardison yelped.

“For bringing me and Mac to meet Nate with no warning!” Eliot growled.

“Look, Nate had to meet Mac at some point. And this was a good time!”

“You could’ve at least  _ told  _ me.”

“But would you have come?” Hardison shot back.

Eliot narrowed his eyes and glared at Hardison for a moment. “Just warn me next time.” He muttered. Parker glanced between Eliot and Hardison as they continued to bicker and rolled her eyes before speaking.

“I still want coffee.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you love when you go home for the holidays and forget to bring your notebooks with you? Yeah...  
> Sorry about the wait, I hope this chapter makes up for it!  
> I don't know when I'll be able to post the next chapter, as classes are starting again soon and I don't know how much free time I'll have. I'll try to post a couple times, but nothing is guaranteed.

Parker relaxed, idly watching the city below her as the wind tossed her hair around, and enjoyed her free time. It was Friday, and while she normally worked Friday afternoons she didn’t have to today, so she was savoring the moment. There was a sudden muffled buzzing noise, quickly followed by another, and another, and another. Parker reached into her pocket and withdrew her phone to glance at the screen. She was only slightly surprised to see five unread- six unread- seven unread text messages from Hardison. Shaking her head, Parker unlocked her phone.

**Hardy** : _hey_

**Hardy** : _so_

**Hardy** : _here’s the thing_

**Hardy** : _i told eliot that i would go with him to the puppy kindergarten class tonight_

**Hardy** : _but i didnt sleep much last night_

**Hardy** : _well the past 3 nights really_

**Hardy** : _so im not feeling super great_

**Hardy** : _and i also havent showered at all in the past 3 days_

**Hardy** : _so i look and feel gross_

**Hardy** : _and i dont think i can make it to puppy k with e_

**Hardy** : _but i dont want to completely ditch him cause its last minute and i feel bad_

**Hardy** : _and i know youre not working tonight_

**Hardy** : _so would you mind going in my place?_

**Hardy** : _just this once?_

**Hardy** : _ill buy you so much chocolate_

Parker blinked in surprise at the sudden flood of texts and considered the question. Hardison was obviously having one of his bad days and couldn’t get himself to do things. Come to think of it, when was the last time Parker had seen him? Late Wednesday night? Or had it been early Thursday morning? At what point do you draw the line between those two anyways? They hadn’t hung out last night because Eliot had to teach a night class, and Hardison said something about an online raid with his imaginary friends.

He obviously wasn’t up for puppy kindergarten though, and as much as Parker didn’t want to be around a bunch of strangers and their hyperactive puppies for an hour, she figured she probably should go. She had been meaning to go to one of the classes at some point, but she tended to be working while they happened, so this would be one of her only opportunities.

**Parker** : _when is the class?_

**Hardy** : _in like half an hour_

“Dammit Hardison.” Parker murmured. Leave it to Hardison to wait until the last minute to ask for help. Not that Parker could complain much, she did the same exact thing.

**Hardy** : _please parker?_

**Hardy** : _i want to go i just cant_

**Parker** : _alright ill go_

**Hardy** : _thank you so much you are a lifesaver_

**Hardy** : _i will buy you so much chocolate_

**Hardy** : _so much_

**Hardy** : _tell e im sorry i couldnt make it_

Parker rolled her eyes and moved to get down from the roof. She had to put on real people clothes—not the sweatpants and sweatshirt she was currently wearing—and prepare herself to Interact with others. It was getting cold up on the roof anyways.

* * *

Parker knocked loudly on Eliot's door and heard movement inside his apartment. She shifted awkwardly on her feet as the rhythmic clicking of his cane got closer to the door. There was a moment's pause between when he stopped moving and when the door started to open, and Parker just hoped he wasn’t annoyed that Hardison wasn’t coming. The door swung open to reveal a slightly confused looking Eliot.

“Hardison isn’t feeling good so he asked me to come instead.” Parker said before Eliot could even ask.

“Oh, is he okay?” Eliot stepped aside to let Parker into the apartment, where she was immediately greeted by a very excited Mac.

“Just tired.” Parker replied as she bend down to scratch Mac’s ears.

“Okay.” Eliot stayed frozen in his hallway for another moment before he seemed to shake himself out of his trance. “Well we should probably head out soon. We have to take the T to get there.”

“I can drive!” Parker offered excitedly.

“Parker, there is no way in hell I am letting you drive a car that has my dog in it.” Eliot stated flatly.

“Why not? I promise I’ll go slow and obey all the traffic laws! It won’t take as long _and_ you won’t have to walk as far.” She argued. Eliot looked at her for a second, then down at Mac, then back up at her, and finally he sighed.

“Alright fine. But _please_ don’t get us into an accident?”

* * *

Parker didn’t understand why Eliot hated her driving so much. They made it to the place so much sooner than they would’ve if they had taken the T. And Parker had barely even driven over the speed limit.

There hadn’t been any parking spots open, so they were forced to park a block away.

“You should get one of those parking sticker things.” Parker said as they approached the building, nodding towards a signpost that said ‘ _Handicap Parking_ ’.

Eliot shook his head. “I don’t need one.” He replied.

“Why not?”

“...I don’t have a car.”

“Yeah but I drive you enough that it’d make sense for you to get one.” Parker pointed out.

“Parker- I- no, I don’t need one.” Eliot’s tone made it clear that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, but Parker didn’t understand why he didn’t just get a sticker. 

Parker hadn’t quite been sure what to expect of puppy kindergarten. She knew it was a class people went to in order to train their dog, and she knew there would be a lot of people and kids, but she hadn’t realized how _loud_ everything was.

The class was held in a pet store, one of the big chain ones that seemed to go on forever. There was a small, fenced off area right in the middle where about half a dozen dogs were running around and wrestling with each other. Most of the adult humans were scattered around the perimeter of the fence, some of them talking to each other, while a lot of kids were also running around screaming—they were acting almost exactly like the dogs. 

As soon as they entered the fenced in area, Eliot bent down and unclipped Mac’s leash. Mac stood there for a moment, quivering with anticipation, until Eliot made a ‘shoo’ motion with his hands, and she took off like a shot. Parker couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up from her chest as Mac sprinted around, not even really playing with other dogs and preferring to just run.

“Eliot! Hey!” Parker and Eliot both turned to see two women walking towards them, one very tall and the other rather short. The tall woman was blond, with hair that was shaved on one side of hear head and many piercings decorating her face, her jeans were ripped, and she had on a very comfy looking beat up leather jacket. The other woman was much shorter, with darker hair and darker skin, her hair was just past shoulder length and very curly, and she was wearing a fluffy sweater that looked too big for her, and a pair of leggings. The only similarity between the two was that they were both wearing big clunky boots.

Eliot seemed to recognize them, because he returned their wave. “Inej, Jess,” Eliot greeted them both with a warm friendly smile, and Parker felt herself start to relax. Eliot trusted these people, that was good enough for her.

“So how’s it going?” The shorter of the two asked, her eyes flickering over to Parker for a moment.

“It’s good. Mac’s actually doing fairly well with her training. How’s Kaz?” Eliot responded.

“A menace, as usual.” The taller one rolled her eyes. “Jenny’s gonna be pissed, but Kaz just doesn’t want to learn.” She shrugged.

The shorter one was glancing between Eliot and Parker, and she had a weird smile on her face. “Where’s Hardison?” She questioned, looking directly at Eliot. For some reason, having a total stranger—a really _pretty_ total stranger—ask about Hardison put a weird feeling in Parker’s stomach. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it wasn’t a good feeling.

“He’s sick today, so Parker offered to come instead.” Eliot replied. “Oh, uh, Parker this is Inej and Jess,” he motioned to the shorter one and then the taller one. “Inej, Jess, this is Parker.”

“So you’re Parker? Hardison and Eliot talk about you a lot.” The shorter one—Inej—smiled at her.

“Really?” Parker looked at Eliot in surprise and saw a similarly confused face.

“We have?” Eliot asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Inej don’t say it like _that_.” Jess said, bumping Inej gently with her shoulder. “What Inej meant to say is that they mention you a lot, not necessarily talking about you specifically.” Jess clarified.

“Oh,” Parker wasn’t quite sure what the distinction between the two was, but didn’t press it.

“Either way, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Inej said cheerfully.

“Yeah, same.” Parker replied lamely.

“Alright, class!” A woman with bright pink curly hair and a smile too big for her face stepped to the center of the room—Parker assumed it was the teacher, Jenny. “First test of the day: call for your dog and put them back on their leash. But you can only call for them! You can’t move to get them!”

Parker frowned, how was that supposed to work? She watched for a moment or two as people started yelling their dogs name, only for their dogs to completely ignore them in favor of continuing to wrestle with each other. Eliot stood next to her for a little as well, not calling Mac. Just when Parker opened her mouth to ask why Eliot wasn’t trying to get Mac, he put his fingers on his lips and let out a loud whistle that pierced through the other voices. Parker watched in amazement as Mac stopped playing with the other dogs to look through the crowd of people. The moment she spotted Eliot, he made a motion with his hand, and she started racing towards them.

Several of the other owners watched in jealousy as Mac immediately came when called. Eliot had Mac on a leash and sitting by his feet before anyone else had even managed to get their dogs attention.

After a few more minutes, in which about half the class managed to call their dog over to them, Jenny stepped forward and let the last few people fetch their dogs. The only ones left were a medium sized, black, scruffy looking dog with curly fur, who Jess had to physically drag away from a lean, light brown dog with a very shiny coat.

“Ok, most of you did pretty well,” Jenny said once the last dogs were on leash. “Those of you who are still struggling with controlling your dogs, I want you to remember that if you only train your dog during class they won’t learn. You have to put in time outside of class if you want them to follow your commands.” Jenny's eyes hovered on Jess and the other woman who had had to pull her dog back—a shorter woman with light brown hair and a very red face.

“So this we we are going to work on ‘stay’ some more. I’m sure you all remember how to do this, if you need help, or need a partner, come grab me! I’ll be walking around and checking out your progress.” Jenny announced.

Once Jenny was done talking, Parker turned to look at Eliot, waiting for him to explain what they were doing.

“Right, so,” Eliot ran a hand through his hair quickly and cleared his throat, “Mac’s not very good at ‘stay’ yet, but she’s a lot better than she was last week.” Eliot said sheepishly.

Parker shrugged. “That’s why we’re here right? To learn?”

“Yeah.” Eliot started to explain what they were going to do, but a little ways into the explanation Parker felt eyes on her. She whipped her head around and noticed that Inej was watching the two of them with a small smile on her face. When she caught Parker’s eyes, she smiled and waved.

“Okay?” Parker snapped her focus back to Eliot. Oh, right, he’d been explaining the thing.

Parker blinked at him a couple times, processing what he had said. “I stand by Mac and you walk away and we try to get her to stay with me and not follow you.” She repeated.

Eliot nodded. “More or less.”

They started practicing, and Parker watched curiously. The first time, Eliot didn’t even make it ten feet before Mac was trying to follow him. After a few attempts, Eliot was able to get farther and farther away. Eventually, Jenny appeared beside them.

“Wow! You’re doing really well!” Jenny said excitedly. Parker was beginning to think that Jenny was just always this hyper. 

“Thanks, I’ve been working with her a lot.” Eliot responded with a smile.

“That’s great! How about you just go over all of the commands we’ve already learned?” Jenny turned to Parker and hesitated. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name?”

“Parker.”

“Okay, well Parker I also want you to go through all the commands with Mac, because it’s very important that your dog learns how to take commands from other people.” Eliot nodded, and Jenny walked away to another group that was struggling with their dog. 

One by one, Eliot started giving Mac all of her commands. Sit, down, come, stay. Mac did really well. She would take an extra second or two to follow some of the commands, but in the end she always did what she was directed. Parker also noticed that Eliot seemed to have a hand signal to go with every command.

“Do the hand signals help?” Parker asked eventually.

Eliot looked up at her in surprise. “Not exactly. They’re not necessary by any means but we used to have a dog in my unit, and he was trained with hand signals, so I just started using them for Mac. I hadn’t even noticed until Jenny commented on it one class.” Eliot shrugged. “It can be useful at times.”

They continued training Mac, and she followed every command really well, but she still had trouble with stay. She didn’t care that much when Parker walked away—she kept looking over at Parker but only once stood up out of the sit she was supposed to be in. And one look from Eliot got her to sit down again. But she always wanted to follow Eliot when he walked away from her.

A little later into the class, Jenny got everyone’s attention again. “Most of you are doing really well with all of the commands I’ve already given go, so we’re going to take the second half of this class to learn ‘heel’.”

She started to demonstrate with a black and white dog with had very fluffy fur that Parker hadn’t even noticed. Teaching this command was something Eliot had to do mostly by himself, so Parker stood off to the side to watch.

The difference between how trained Mac was versus some of the other dogs was… a lot. Most dogs were pretty good, but they would get distracted very easily, by other dogs or by people who were just walking through the store. Mac kept her eyes trained on Eliot almost the entire time. She would get distracted occasionally, if another dog wandered too close, but one word from Eliot and she was paying attention again.

While most of the dogs did pretty well, there were a few that were just really bad. Not good at listening, constantly trying to run away, not paying attention at all.

One of those dogs was Kaz. Jess was having trouble reining him in, because even though he was on the smaller side, he seemed to be very strong and determined. Parker had to keep stifling a laugh as Jess struggled with the dog, because Inej was standing almost next to her.

“So how come you haven’t come to puppy k before?” Parker tensed a little when Inej talked, and it took her a moment to reply.

“I normally work when this class is happening.” Parker replied stiffly.

“RIght, I think I remember Eliot and Hardison mentioning that. Where do you work?”

“Lefty’s Auto Shop.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard of that place.” Inej said, tilting her head to the side.

“It’s kind of out of the way.” There was a moment of silence before Parker realized this was when she was supposed to ask a question in return. “So where do you work?” She blurted.

“I’m a kindergarten teacher at the River’s Elementary school.” Inej replied. “Honestly, getting kids to listen to me is easier than getting Kaz to pay attention.” She said with a laugh, motioning over to where Jess had crouched down in front of Kaz and seemed to be speaking to him very seriously. 

“So you, Eliot, and Hardison are all neighbors?” Inej asked. Parker nodded. “And all rescued Mac?” She nodded again. “That’s cool. Jess and I have slowly been working our way to getting a dog for a while now. Started with some plants, then a few fish, then a rat. Only recently got to a place where we felt stable enough to get a puppy, even though Jess has wanted one for a while.” Inej sighed and shook her head fondly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love dogs, I just grew up in a cat household. I made Jess promise to be in charge of training, and she’s been trying and training Kaz a lot, but he just refuses to listen.”

Inej and Parker continued to talk for a while—mostly Inej talked and Parker nodded at the right moments—until eventually Jenny stepped to the center of the room again.

“Alright, that’s all for today’s class! Feel free to come up and ask any questions you might have about training your dogs.” Jenny announced. She was immediately swarmed by several people, including Jess, who all let their dogs run around while they bombarded Jenny with questions. 

Eliot headed towards Parker, Mac trailing a few feet behind even though she wasn’t on a leash.

“You ready to head out?” Eliot asked, saving Parker from having to make more small talk.

“Yes.” Parker said, trying not to sound too relieved.

Eliot gave her a tired smile before he turned to Inej. “Well it was nice seeing you again. Same time next week?” He joked.

“You can count on it.” Inej laughed. “Tell Hardison I hope he gets better soon.”

“Will do.” With that, Eliot reached down and clipped Mac’s leash on, then led the way out the door. As soon as they exited the building, Parker took a deep breath, and was surprised to realize Eliot did the same thing. She hadn’t quite realized that he hated crowds as much as she did.

“Thanks for coming with me. It means a lot.” Eliot said once they reached her car.

Parker shrugged, trying to act nonchalant even though the fact that she had been surrounded by strangers for an hour made her want to scream. “I’ve been meaning to come for a while, just never worked out.”

“Still, I know you don’t like being around a lot of strangers.” Eliot said as he put Mac in the backseat. Parker blinked in surprise, was she that obvious?

“Do you want to go to Hardison’s and get takeout?” Parker asked, forcibly changing the subject.

“I thought you said Hardison was sick?” Eliot asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“He’s not sick, he’s just not having a great day.” She replied. Eliot nodded thoughtfully and shrugged.

“Okay. Should we pick up some chinese food on the way back?” He asked, Parker nodded and got in her car. She started it and pulled out of the parking space to head for China Ruby—the best chinese place in town.

“Think Hardison will just want his usual?” Eliot asked, looking up from his phone.

“Does he ever get anything else?” Parker deadpanned.

“Fair point.” Eliot chuckled. “I’ll call it in.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's finally gotten around to writing again! I guess this quarantine is good for something...  
> I'm not sure when I'll be able to post another chapter but it shouldn't be as long of a wait!

“I’m hungry.” Eliot looked up from where he was absentmindedly petting Mac to see Parker stretch her arms over her head where she was lying on the floor. They were all in Hardison’s apartment, with the TV playing something in the background. Eliot wouldn’t say they were _watching_ TV, considering Parker was lying on the ground, with her feet propped up on the coffee table while she fiddled with a Rubkis’ cube that Hardison had pulled out of somewhere; Hardison was on one end of the couch, buried under a million blankets and absorbed with something on his phone; and Eliot was on the other side of the couch, staring off into the distance as he absentmindedly pet Mac, who had managed to take up a majority of the room on the couch.

“Do you want to go eat somewhere?” Eliot asked.

“Yeah!” Parker swung her feet off the coffee table and sat up. “Where? Palermo’s?”

Eliot shook his head. “Nah, I think Hardison would throw a fit if we went there.”

“Huh?” At the mention of his name, Hardison looked up from whatever he was doing on his phone, and took a few seconds to process what Eliot had said. “Hey, I wouldn’t throw a fit!” Hardison protested. “Though we _should_ go to McRory’s.” He added.

“No, Eliot said that Palermo’s had better food.” Parker argued.

“Well maybe he just didn’t get one of the good dishes at McRory’s.”

“Hardison, you know that Palermo’s is better.”

“It is not! McRory’s is _so_ much better! You’ve said yourself that nothing can beat their mac and cheese!” Hearing her name, Mac lifted her head from where it had been resting on Eliot’s leg and wagged her tail a few times, hitting Hardison in the chest. “See! Even Mac agrees we should go to McRorys.” Hardison said as he reached out to pet Mac.

“I have a better idea.” Eliot said, cutting through their bickering and causing them both to look up at him.

“A better idea?” Parker tilted her head quizzically.

“Do you mean cook something? Cause I gotta be honest with you man, I don’t know how much help I’m gonna be.” Hardison said sheepishly, pulling up the blankets that surrounded him.

Eliot shook his head “No, not cook.” Though it probably would be good for Hardison to get up and do something instead of just lay in his apartment all day, Eliot added mentally. “You two have shown me your favorite restaurants, now it’s my turn to show you my favorite.” Hardison and Parker exchanged a glance and shrugged.

“Ok.” Parker said. “Can I drive?”

“No. It’s a short walk.” Eliot replied firmly.

“See, when you say something is a short walk it’s usually a lot different from what most people think of as a short walk. So exactly how short of a walk is it?” Hardison asked suspiciously.

Eliot shook his head and moved to stand up. “It’s a short walk, you’ll be fine.”

\-----

“Short walk my ass! Eliot that was 20 minutes! In what universe is 20 minutes considered a short walk?” Eliot rolled his eyes but didn’t respond to Hardisons complaints as he led them into the restaurant.

“It wasn’t that bad of a walk.” Parker countered.

“Hardison, for most people 20 minutes _is_ a short walk.” Eliot said wearily, forcibly ignoring the twinge in his leg. For people who didn’t need a cane to walk everywhere, 20 minutes was a short walk. Hardison continued to mutter to himself as the three of them made their way up to the hostess stand.

“Hi, welcome to the Bridgeport Brewpub, how many are in your party? Oh,” the hostess, Sarah, saw Eliot and paused. “Eliot, right?”

“Yes ma’am.” Eliot said with a smile. He had only been to the Brewpub a few times, but Sarah had been working every single time, and he liked her. She was sweet, had light brown hair, freckles, and a slight southern twang in her voice that reminded Eliot of home. “Table for three please. And if we could sit in, ah,” Eliot motioned with his hand, “that section that’d be lovely.”

“Oh, of course. Right this way!” Sarah grabbed three menus and started to lead them to the far side of the restaurant. Eliot could feel Parker and Hardisons suspicion growing, but they followed him anyway.

“Your server will be right with you.” Sarah winked at Eliot and walked away, leaving them at their table. Eliot automatically took the seat with the best view of the door.

“What’s so great about this place anyways?” Hardison asked once they had all sat down, a weird tone in his voice that made Eliot pause. He couldn’t quite place it, but it was somewhere between jealousy and annoyance. Why was Hardison already annoyed? 

“Trust me, it may look like a normal restaurant, but they have the best food in town.” Eliot replied.

“I’ll be sure to pass your compliments to the chef.” Eliot stifled a laugh as both Parker and Hardison whirled around in surprise to see Amy standing over them.

“Amy! I didn’t know you worked here!” Parker exclaimed.

“Yeah, well I gotta pay the bills somehow.” Amy chuckled.

“Amy’s the one that introduced me to this place.” Eliot said with a smile.

She shrugged. “I figure if I have to work, might as well work at a place with good food, right?” Both Parker and Hardison nodded in agreement. “Well, can I get you anything to drink?”

“Do you have orange soda?” Hardison asked.

“We don’t, actually.” Amy said apologetically. “We have Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, Dr Pepper, Root Beer, and Sprite.” She offered.

“You brought me somewhere that doesn’t have orange soda?” Hardison asked Eliot, mock outraged.

“You should have their root beer, they make it themselves.” Eliot suggested.

Hardison narrowed his eyes, thinking it over. “Okay.” He said finally.

“Alright, one root beer. Parker?” Amy turned to Parker.

“Could I have a lemonade?” Parker asked.

“Sure, regular or pink?”

“Uh,” Parker froze for a moment, “pink?” Amy nodded and made a note before she turned to Eliot.

“I’ll just stick with water, thanks.” Amy nodded again. “Actually, I think we’re actually ready to order.” Eliot said cautiously.

“We are?” Hardison looked up in surprise.

“Yeah, I can order for you guys, if you’re ok with that?” Eliot offered. Parker and Hardison exchanged a brief, skeptical glance before Hardison shrugged.

“Okay.” Hardison said, handing over his menu and leaning back in his chair. Parker took another couple seconds, her brow furrowed.

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to, but I think I know what you would like.” Eliot said. Parker looked at him for a little bit longer before she also handed Eliot her menu. Eliot smiled at her when she did so, he knew it was hard for her to give up control over something like that. “Okay, Hardison’s going to have the peanut butter burger, Parker will have the avocado chili mac, and I’ll go with the smoked brisket sandwich.” Eliot said to Amy,

“Alright, I”ll be right back with your drinks.” She said, taking the menus from him.

“You’re the best!” Eliot called after her. She came back a moment later with their drinks before she disappeared again.

Hardison picked up his soda and sniffed it experimentally before taking a sip. “...okay, that’s pretty good.” He admitted. Eliot smiled and leaned back in his chair.

“Told you it was worth it.” They sat in silence for a moment or two, but it was a comfortable silence.

“So how was puppy kindergarten yesterday? What’d Mac do?” Hardison asked, looking between Eliot and Parker.

“It went well.” Eliot spoke first. “Mac did good, Axel and her owners weren’t even there to be dicks about it.”

“Really?” Hardison raised an eyebrow. “Damn, they always seem so intense about training, wonder why they missed class. Family emergency? Car broke down?” Hardison mused.

“It was weird. But Emma and Scooby were there.” Eliot added.

“So Emma was there but Axel wasn’t? That’s a first. I think that officially means she’s been to half of the classes.” Hardison shook his head. “What about Inej and Jess?”

“Oh! I met them!” Parker, who had previously been following the conversation with a look of slight confusion, sat up straighter in her chair with a smile. “Inej is nice.” She stated.

“Yeah, they’re both pretty chill.” Hardison agreed. “How did Kaz do?” He asked, a grin on his face that said he already knew the answer.

“Kaz was awful. He followed two commands the entire class, and did almost nothing else.” Eliot chuckled.

“Two whole commands? Well that’s better than before!” Hardison joked, and Eliot nodded in agreement. “How’d Mac do?”

“She did pretty good, followed most of my commands, but she had a hard time with ‘stay’.” Eliot recounted.

“But she did well on everything else!” Parker added. “She was the only dog that came the first time she was called.”

“I swear man, you never cut Mac a break.” Haridson said. “She does really well, all things considered.

“You don’t spoil her enough.” Parker cut in, and Hardison nodded in agreement.

Eliot raised an eyebrow. “I treat her just fine. If anything I have to make up for how much you two spoil her.”

“I don’t spoil her!” Hardison protested.

“Any time we cook anything you always give her scraps of what we’re making.” Eliot argued,

“Everyone does that!” They devolved into an argument for a bit, each accusing the other of not treating Mac right.

“What kind of dog is Mac?” Parker asked, cutting off Eliot and Hardison’s bickering.

“We don’t know.” Eliot replied. “She’s a mutt.”

Parker frowned, clearly not satisfied with the answer. “But she’s gotta be _something_ right? Because she’s not a Great Dane, or a Poodle, or a Chihuahua.” 

“The vet said something about her being a Pitbull mix.” Eliot offered. “I trust Dr Laroque, so if she says Mac is a Pitbull mix, then she’s a Pitbull mix.” He shrugged. “That’s as much as we’ll ever know.”

“Actually,” Hardison’s eyes lit up and he sat forward in his seat. “We could do a dog DNA test.”

“A what?” Eliot and Parker asked simultaneously.

“A DNA test!” Hardison repeated excitedly. He was looking at them expectantly, but rolled his eyes when neither of them got excited. “You know how people can do DNA tests to find out where they’re from? Where you send your spit into a company and they analyze it and tell you what country your ancestors were probably from?” Eliot nodded slowly. “Well, DNA tests for humans aren’t very reliable, but they have the same sort of thing for dogs. Where they analyze it and tell you what breed your dog is. And they’re a lot more accurate than the human ones.”

“Why would I buy a DNA test for my dog?” Eliot asked when Hardison was done explaining. “That seems like a waste of money. Why do I need to know what breed Mac is? It doesn’t change anything.”

“Because it would be cool!” Parker said, slowly getting on board with Hardison’s idea.

“Yeah! You get a certificate in the mail, it’s all official and everything. We could even throw a party!” Hardison exclaimed, nearly knocking over his root beer as he waved his hands emphatically.

Parker nodded along excitedly. “Like a birthday party! With balloons! And cake!”

“I am not buying a DNA test for my _dog_.” Eliot growled.

“C’mon Eliot, they’re not that expensive. It’ll be fun!” Hardison pleaded. Eliot looked between Hardison and Parker, at how excited they were at the prospect of throwing a party for Mac, and the walls inside him crumbled a little bit more.

“Fine. If you really want to know what breed Mac is, then you can buy the test your damn self.” Eliot held up his hands in surrender. 

“Yes!” Hardison exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air. Eliot rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair, letting Parker and Hardison plan excitedly.

Several minutes later, Amy reappeared at their table, carrying three large plates of food. “Here’s your food!” She said. “Peanut butter burger for Hardison, avocado chili mac for Parker, and the smoked brisket sandwich for Eliot.” Amy placed the three plates in front of them before she brushed off her hands and smiled. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“I think we’re good. Thanks.” Eliot said to Amy. She smiled, nodded, and walked away.

Eliot turned back to Parker and Hardison, who were both looking at their dishes in a mix of suspicion and excitement. Parker moved first, grabbing her fork and taking a huge bite. She chewed for a moment, before her eyes went wide and she hurriedly shoveled more into her mouth.

“This is really good!” Parker exclaimed through a mouthful of macaroni.

Seeing Parker enjoy her meal made Hardison pick up his burger to take a tentative bite. He took longer to react than Parker did, and Eliot was surprised at just how nervous he felt. 

“Do you like it?” Eliot asked once Hardison had swallowed.

“Actually… yeah.” Hardison admitted, sounding surprised. Eliot smiled to himself and picked up his own sandwich to take a bite.

He was pleasantly surprised by what he had ordered, as he hadn’t had it before and didn’t quite know what to expect. He liked to try a new dish every time he went to a restaurant, and this one held its own against the other dishes he had gotten from the Brewpub..

They all sat in silence for several minutes, just eating, nothing but the clinking of silverware and the low chatter of other people.

“How’d you know I’d like this?” Parker asked after several minutes of eating. “Have you had this dish before? Have you had _all_ their dishes?”

“I haven’t been here enough times to try everything on the menu.” Eliot said with a slight laugh. “I haven’t actually had the avocado chili mac from here, but the chef takes a class at Toby’s school, and it’s the same recipe.” He explained.

“How’d you know I’d like this?” Hardison spoke up. “It’s not exactly my normal type.”

“I had that dish last time I was here. I didn’t love it, the taste combination wasn’t my thing, and it was too sweet, but I knew you’d like it.” Eliot said, and Hardison nodded.

“You were right.”

“What’d you get?” Parker asked, looking curiously at Eliot’s plate.

“I got the smoked brisket sandwich. I hadn’t had it before, and it’s… interesting.” He replied.

“Interesting in a good or bad way?” Hardison asked.

“Good way. It’s not what I expected, but it’s well made. Though I would’ve let the brisket cook for a little longer so it could...” Eliot started to say something else, but he noticed the confused expression on Hardison’s face, and the slightly glassed over look in Parker’s eyes, so he stopped before he bored them to death.

They ate in silence for a little longer before Parker spoke again. “So how often do you come here?” Parker asked as she cast her eyes around the place. Eliot noticed she had subtly shifted her chair so that she had a better eye on the door.

“Not that often.” Eliot replied.

“It is a 20 minute walk.” Hardison muttered between bites of his meal, causing Eliot to shoot him a half hearted glare.

“The exercise is good for you.” Eliot countered. “And the food is worth it.” He added, gesturing to their quickly emptying plates.

“Doesn’t the walk hurt your leg?” Parker asked. Eliot saw Hardison wince ever so slightly at Parker’s bluntness, but if anything Eliot appreciated that she didn’t beat around the bush.

“It does,” Eliot admitted slowly. “Not a lot, but enough that I don’t come here as often as I’d like to. I’ll probably come even less once winter gets here.” He mused.

Parker tilted her head to the side. “Does the cold weather make it worse?”

Eliot shrugged halfheartedly. “A little.” Truth was, Eliot didn’t actually know how much worse the cold weather would make his injury. He hadn’t gone through a winter since it had happened, but his physical therapist had told him to expect more pain once the cold set in. Which wasn’t an encouraging thing to hear.

“Cold weather does that.” Hardison chimed in. “Man, my Nana used to be able to tell if a storm was coming just by how much her joints hurt. More accurate than the weather channel too.” Hardison shook his head fondly. “She always knew if we were gonna have a snow day.”

“That’s useful.” Eliot said. “In all my years at school we only ever had two snow days, but-”

“Hang on, you _what_ ? _Two_ snow days? _Total_?” Eliot shrugged at Hardison’s shocked expression.

“Oklahoma.” Was all he could say in response. “Never built snowmen or anything either.”

Hardison turned to Parker for support. “You had snow days, right?”

“Sort of?” Parker shrugged. “In some of the places I lived. But I also skipped school enough that I didn’t really notice if we had an actual snow day.”

“But you made snow angels right? Had snowball fights? Built snowmen?” Hardison asked with increasing desperation.

“Well…” Parker thought for a moment before her eyes lit up. “Actually, there was this one time in… elementary school? I had been hanging out with some other kids, and we built a snowman in one of their yards, right by the road. But the next day, someone had run over it with their car. So we made another one. And that time we saw this guy deliberately drive up on the sidewalk to run it over. So we made a third one, but we built it around a fire hydrant, and hid behind a snowbank. And when the guy-” Parker started laughing, and had trouble continuing her story. “He tried to run over the snowman and completely wrecked his car.” She snorted. “He was _pissed_.”

Eliot looked at her for a moment as she continued cracking up, unsure of what to say.

“But Eliot, you’ve never built a snowman?” Hardison asked, turning back to look at Eliot. “ _Ever_?”

Eliot shook his head. “I’ve never lived in a place with a lot of snow. Oklahoma, various places in the Middle East, D.C.. Never saw much snow.”

“But- but you said you had a couple snow days right? Didn’t you go out and make a snow angel? Have a snowball fight?” Hardison pressed, unable to let the topic go.

“Hardison, we got snow days when it snowed half an inch.” Eliot explained. “Besides, I always had to help with the animals when it got that cold.” Eliot’s dad had run a hardware store, but he had plenty of cousins and neighbors that needed an extra hand on the farm when it snowed. His younger brother got to play, but Eliot went wherever he was needed.

Hardison shook his head in dismay. “We’re gonna fix that. This year. I’m talking snow forts, snow angels, snowmen, snowball fights. Then going back inside and burying yourself under blankets and drinking way too much hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream and sprinkles.”

“Sounds like a recipe for diabetes.” Eliot murmured under his breath. Parker snorted, but Hardison just looked affronted.

“Rude.” Hardison said haughtily, taking a sip of his root beer.

“Hang on, Portland doesn’t get that much snow. It’s mostly rain here, isn’t it?” Eliot questioned.

“Well, yeah, we don’t get _loads_ of snow, not as much as we got in Chicago.” Hardison admitted.

“It comes in waves. So when it snows, it snows a lot, but then all of it melts in just a couple weeks.” Parker said with a shrug. “Which isn’t as much fun, but at least there’s some snow.” Eliot nodded thoughtfully. It might be fun to make a snowman or have a snowball fight, but whether or not he could enjoy it would all depend on how much his leg hurt that day.

There was a sudden crackling noise and a high pitched screech echoed through the restaurant. The three of them looked up to see two guys with guitars standing on a makeshift stage that had been set up on the opposite side of the restaurant. One of them was standing in front of a mic, blond hair pulled up into a bun and an acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder that was plugged into an amp. The other was standing a little farther back, and didn’t look too happy about being up on stage. He had a pair of thick rimmed glasses on, and was fiddling with the strap of the bass that he was holding.

“Hey! How are you all doing tonight?” Man-bun asked into the microphone. A few people clapped, but not many really paid much attention to him.

“That’s the other good thing about this place: live music.” Eliot commented, leaning back in his chair appreciatively.

“Live music? Seriously?” Hardison asked. “Man, how old are you?” Eliot ignored him.

“Alright, well I’m Dean, and this is my brother Alex, and we’ll be playing some music for you tonight.” Man-bun introduced himself. They started playing, and Eliot let himself sit back and just enjoy the music. One string on the guitar was a little flat, and the two brothers weren’t entirely in sync with each other, but other than that they were pretty good.

“You should do that.” Eliot shook himself out of his trance to see Parker staring at him intensely.

“Do… what?” Eliot asked, even though he had a sinking feeling he knew.

“You should perform here sometime.” Parker said, still staring at him. Eliot laughed and shook his head.

“No.”

“Why not? You play guitar!” She pressed.

“Used to. I _used_ to play guitar.” Eliot protested. “I haven’t touched one in years. I barely even remember how to play.” Parker narrowed her eyes at him, and he knew she didn’t believe him. Which was fair, as he didn’t even believe himself. He hadn’t touched a guitar since he had left for the Army, but he definitely hadn’t forgotten how to play.

“You can practice.” Hardison said.

Eliot looked at him in dismay. “You too? Hardison, I don’t even own a guitar!”

“Then buy one.” Parker pressured him.

“Parker, I can’t just buy a guitar. They’re expensive, and I don’t know of any place here that would even sell them. Besides, it’s not like I would have time to play.” Eliot argued. A suspicious light entered Parker’s eyes that immediately made Eliot wary.

“Okay.” Parker said, way too calmly considering how adamant she had been about making Eliot get a guitar.

“Okay? What do you mean okay? What are you planning?” Eliot asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Nothing.” Parker replied innocently, which meant she was definitely planning something. Eliot eyed her suspiciously and opened his mouth to say something else when Amy reappeared at their table.

“Is everything alright here?” Amy asked.

“Amy!” Parker turned to look at Amy, who was taken aback at the intensity in Parker’s voice.

“Is there something wrong with the food?” Amy asked, concerned.

“No, everything’s great-” Eliot started.

“Don’t you think Eliot should get a guitar?” Parker asked, oblivious to how Eliot was trying to steer the conversation away from that topic.

“I didn’t know he could play.” Amy said, shooting Eliot an amused glance as he let out a deep sigh.

“I can’t play.” Eliot cut in. “I haven’t played in years, it would just sound bad.”

“Well I don’t know about that. I haven’t played piano in years either but I bet I could pick it back up again pretty quick.” Amy shrugged. “It all depends on how good you were when you played, and how long it’s been.”

“I wasn’t that good-” Eliot started.

“He said he used to be really good! And that he played for a really long time!” Parker interrupted.

“Well, it’d be pretty easy to pick it back up again.” Amy said with a smile. “When was the last time you played?”

“About 10 years ago. And I don’t even own a guitar.” Eliot said.

“If you’re looking for a guitar, I have a few friends who could find one for you that’s on the cheaper side. I know musical instruments can get pretty expensive.” Amy offered.

“You’re no help.” Eliot grumbled.

“You’re getting a guitar.” Parker stated, leaving no room for argument. But dammit if Eliot wasn’t going to try.

“What about Hardison? He plays violin.” Eliot pointed out. 

“Wha-? No, I’m not a part of this.” Hardison protested, holding his hands up in front of him.

“I didn’t know you played violin.” Amy said looking at Hardison. 

“I _used_ to play violin. For like, two years in middle school. I wasn’t good then, and I doubt I’ll be better now.” Hardison argued.

“Hey, maybe the two of you could start a band.” Amy joked.

“You _should_ start a band!” Parker gasped. “You could play here!” She motioned towards the stage, where the two brothers were currently in the middle of a cover of Wonderwall.

“You could!” Amy said. “I mean, no offense to these guys, but they’re not the best.” She glanced towards the two on stage. “It’d give me something to look forward to when I work.” She added on as she looked back at them.

“You’re gonna do it.” Parker decided.

“Parker…” Eliot trailed off, unable to come up with something to say. He looked at Hardison for help, but Hardison just shook his head.

“You started this.” Hardison said with a smile. Eliot groaned.

“Alright, well I gotta go check on my other tables. Let me know if you need anything else. And Eliot-” Amy looked at him with a small smile, “it’d be nice to hear you play sometime.”


	17. Chapter 17

Eliot was taking Mac out on a walk when it started pouring. He hadn’t taken an umbrella and was still a ways away from his apartment. He really should’ve known by now that just because the forecast said it was going to be sunny didn’t mean that it wouldn't just start raining all of a sudden. 

He spotted the sign for some second hand shop that looked open, and he quickly hurried inside, Mac following him. As soon as he walked in, Eliot immediately felt out of place. When he read second hand shop he expected a mom and pop shop, run by a couple in their late 50’s who refurbished the furniture by hand. Or a cramped, dark, and dusty building run by a little old lady who looked like she hadn’t seen the sun in years.

This was not that at all.

It was so jarring that he had to double check that the sign said second hand store instead of museum. 

The walls were bright white, and it had a dark wood floor, with wooden paneling along the bottom of the walls. Paintings and sculptures and other artwork were displayed everywhere, some of them were even in glass cases that he was pretty sure were alarmed. There was furniture, but it all looked very upscale, Eliot had a hard time believing anything in the store was second hand. The store was crowded with items, and looked very well taken care of. There was a faint hint of classical music playing from somewhere, and it didn’t feel like any second hand store he had been to before.

Every inch of his being was telling him to get out, that he didn’t belong in such a nice place, especially not while he was soaked from the rain and accompanied by a wet dog. Looking back outside, Eliot made himself wait for at least a few minutes, because he knew it was more than likely that the rain would clear up soon. He didn’t move further into the shop, for fear of Mac shaking and getting water on an expensive painting. 

“Can I help you look for something?” Eliot wheeled around to see a dark haired woman walking towards him. 

“Oh, no ma’am. I’m just trying to get out of the rain for a moment.” Eliot said. It was only when the woman got closer when Eliot realized he actually had met her before.

“Eliot? Well it’s nice to see you again!” Sophie said, smiling widely.

“Sophie, hi. Sorry I couldn’t see you very well.” Eliot apologized.

“It’s all right dear. Oh it is raining something dreadful isn’t it?” Sophie said, her eyes sliding past him to look out the window. 

“Yeah. Sorry for getting water all over your floor. I didn’t realize this was your store.” Eliot said, pulling Mac closer to him so she didn’t try to wander off and break something. 

“Oh it’s alright. You can look around if you want, there’s a lot of interesting things. And I’m not sure how long that rain is going to last.” Eliot nodded. 

He hesitated for a moment, but one of the sculptures that was in a corner caught his eye. He headed over there, carefully making sure not to let Mac get too close to anything that looked expensive. 

“So how are you adjusting to life here in Portland? Parker tells me you only moved here a few months ago.” Sophie asked. She wasn’t keeping pace with him, instead wandering around the shop but staying in the same general area as he moved.

“It’s really nice here. I like my job, and Parker and Hardison are good neighbors.” Eliot replied.

“Yes, I hear you’ve taken it upon yourself to make sure Parker and Hardison eat at least one real meal a day.” Sophie commented, and Eliot felt his face heat up.

“Yeah. They tend to eat a lot of junk food.” Eliot said, aiming for casual and not quite getting there if the sharp look Sophie shot him was any indication. “So this is a second hand shop?” Eliot asked, wincing at the awkward change in subject. 

“Yes. Do you like any of the things here?”

“It’s all very beautiful. Where do you get this stuff?”

“Oh, here and there. I have a lot of friends in the art world.” Sophie responded. He was going to reply when his eye caught on something and he lost his train of thought.

One entire corner of the store was dedicated to musical instruments of all sorts. Violins, drums, mandolin, guitars, harps, even a baby grand piano. But Eliot’s eyes focused on one item in particular: an old guitar. It was an old Gibson guitar, the wood didn’t have a scratch on it but it still looked well loved. The strap that was attached to it looked worn and frayed, and Eliot almost felt like it should be in a display case instead of just sitting in a guitar stand.

“Do you play guitar?” Eliot tensed a little, his mind so focused on the guitar he didn’t hear Sophie come up beside him.

“I used to.’”Eliot admitted. He wanted to pick it up, but he was still soaking wet, and he had to hold onto both Macs leash and his cane. 

“You can play something if you want.” Sophie said, seemingly able to read his mind.

“Ah, I wouldn’t want to get it dirty.” Eliot said.

“It’s all right.”

Eliot looked at the guitar again, the. Down at the leash and cane in his hand. “No, I don’t think I can.” Eliot heard a tutting noise and turned to see Sophie pull over a chair before she held her hand out toward him.

Eliot frowned, confused at what she was asking, until she reached forward and plucked Macs leash from his hands. 

“Sit down. Play something.” Sophie said, gesturing to the guitar and the chair that was now right next to it.

Eliot swallowed hard and did what Sophie said. He was very quickly realizing that she was not someone you could say no to.

Eliot picked up the guitar and set it in his lap. He strummed once experimentally, and he could almost feel the vibrations of the guitar through his hands. Moving almost automatically he started tuning the guitar, it wasn’t even that far out of tune, but he could tell exactly which string was off. 

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and started to play. 

He started off slow, taking a moment to find every new chord as he strummed. That was another thing to add to the list of things he hadn’t expected to change when he lost an eye: playing guitar was different. He kept having to turn his head to check his hands were in the right place to play a chord, but within a minute or two he could switch between chords almost flawlessly, the muscle memory guiding him without him even having to think about it. He wasn’t playing a song so much as he just started playing, picking notes out of the air in a natural flow. 

When was the last time he had played guitar? It had been years at this point. Senior year of high school at least. The music brought him back to that place. Before he left home, before he joined the Army, before he had blood on his hands, before he got injured, before...

Eliot blinked, and realized that the store had gone quiet, the classical music that had been faintly playing had stopped, and it was just the sound of the guitar reverberating through the room. He stilled, the last note hanging in the air as he looked up to see Sophie perched on the edge of a nearby desk, watching him play with a small smile on her face and Macs leash held loosely in one hand. Mac had laid down at Sophie’s feet, and looked asleep until Eliot shifted, when she lifted her head up in the air expectantly.

Eliot glanced past all of the items in the shop and realized that the rain had stopped. Had probably been stopped for a while. 

Eliot cleared his throat and put the guitar back on the stand before he reached for his cane to stand.

“Thanks.” He said awkwardly. “The rains stopped so I think I’ll bring Mac back home before it starts again.”

“Take the guitar with you.” Sophie said breezily as she handed him Mac’s leash, like she wasn’t suggesting he buy an expensive guitar at the drop of a hat.

“Oh, no I can’t.” Eliot said with a smile. Sophie gave him a look that made him feel like he was missing something important.

“You don’t have to pay for it, just take it.” She replied. Eliot stared at her for a moment, not quite being able to comprehend that she was going to give him it for free. “Friends and family discount. You wouldn’t believe the amount of things Parker and Hardison have ‘bought’ from here.” Sophie chuckled gently. 

“Friends and family?” Eliot focused on the one part of what she had said that he could understand.

“Yes. Parker and Hardison like you a lot, and you’ll be family soon enough I’m sure.” Sophie said. She picked up a guitar case that was leaning against the wall and carefully placed the guitar in it before holding it out to Eliot. “Well don’t just stand there.” She said. Eliot reached out and took the guitar from her, still not quite being able to believe what she was doing.

“Are you sure?” Eliot asked, because his brain couldn’t accept the fact that Sophie was just giving him an almost new Gibson guitar for free. Sophie raised an eyebrow at him, and Eliot knew that had been a stupid question.

“It’s been here for ages. If you take it at least I know someone who will use it well has it instead of it just collecting dust in my store.” Eliot nodded and slung the guitar over his back so it wasn’t in the way while he tried to walk.

“Thank you.” Eliot said belatedly.

Sophie smiled. “Better get going before it starts to rain again.” She said, before turning around and heading deeper into her shop.

Eliot shook his head once more to clear it before he got a better grip on Mac’s leash and started to walk out.

\-----

Hardison had gotten to know his neighbors pretty well. That kind of thing tends to happen when you live in such a small place. He was home a lot, and had an interesting sleep schedule, which meant he got to hear things no one else did, and was used to the sounds that people would normally make.

Amy could occasionally be heard spouting various curses as she tried to study for an exam. Jessica watched quiz shows and shouted at her TV when the contestants got the answers wrong. And if Hardison walked the halls at the right time, he could hear Jeremy in the process of filming a new video for his YouTube channel.

One thing he did not expect to hear as he headed back towards his place, however, was the sound of someone playing guitar.

He definitely wasn’t expecting it to be coming from Eliot’s apartment. 

At first he thought someone was just playing music, because it sounded so natural and put together. But as he got closer, Hardison heard the occasional hesitation or wrong note. And by the time Hardison reached his own door, he could just make out the low gravelly sound that was Eliot’s voice as he sang along.

Hardison paused outside of his door, key halfway in the lock as he listened for several moments, dripping water onto the ground. Only when the strumming stopped did Hardison realize he had been standing there for far too long, and he quickly entered his apartment.

Hardison shut the door behind him, but immediately pressed his ear against the door, trying to catch the sounds of Eliot playing. But he couldn’t hear anything. He couldn’t even tell if Eliot had continued playing or just stopped.

Sighing, Hardison moved farther into his apartment, placing his soaked shopping bag on the counter—he had run out of toothpaste and was dangerously low on hand sanitizer, but he hadn’t expected it to rain as much as it did, and had been woefully unprepared.

Hardison draped his jacket on the back of one of his chairs before he collapsed on his couch and tried to decide what to do. He could do nothing, just stay there playing games until Parker or Eliot decided to join him. And while that sounded appealing, hearing Eliot play a soft melody in guitar had soothed something inside Hardison that he hadn’t realized needed soothing. But he couldn’t just barge over there and demand Eliot play for him. Hardison knew Eliot better than that. If he tried to do that, or tried to listen to Eliot play before Eliot felt ready, he would just retreat, and might never pick up the guitar again—which would be tragic, because he was _really good_.

Speaking of, when did Eliot get a guitar? Had Parker finally pressured him into buying one? Had he just decided to buy one? Eliot wasn’t the type of person to drop a lot of money on something out of the blue, and though Hardison didn’t know much about musical instruments he knew they could be pricey. Especially if you got a nicer one—which Eliot almost certainly did, the guy never did anything halfway.

So had Eliot been saving up money to buy one and just hadn’t told Hardison and Parker about it for fear of being forced to play for them? Or had Parker pressured him into it? If Parker had been a part of it Hardison was pretty sure he would’ve heard about it. Unless she nagged him about it during their midnight gym thing—Hardison had still only been to one. But Parker was at work for another hour, so unless they had gotten it earlier and Eliot was only just now playing it, Parker hadn’t been a part of this decision.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Hardison got up off his couch and pressed his ear to his front door again, trying to hear Eliot play. But he was just met with silence. Either there were too many walls and Eliot was just playing too softly, or Eliot had put the guitar away once he heard someone in the ball. Which seemed like the more likely thing to happen.

Too bad, Hardison would’ve loved to hear Eliot play more, even if it would’ve been muffled by the walls that separated them.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray for being stuck at home and having literally nothing else to do but write! I also blame the news of the Leverage reboot for getting me back to writing more.

Parker was on the roof when it started.

It was mid-November so it was chilly, but there was this one spot on the corner of the roof by a heating vent that was warm and cozy. The only drawback to the spot was that she couldn’t look down on the city when she sat there, boxed in by the vent and the walls. But it was a good place to think. When Parker sat there she could be outside and feel the breeze on her face without getting too cold.

The reason she was on the roof in the first place was because of James. She hadn’t heard from him in months—which made her nervous. He wasn’t the type of guy to leave her alone, even if the last time he cornered her Eliot had beat the crap out of him and his friends. James was a dick. And convinced that Parker owed him money even though she didn’t. 

Parker had first met James when she was a getaway driver for a small heist he was doing. She hadn’t realized how much of an ass he was until she was in too deep. He was part of the reason why she had moved to Portland. Not the only reason, but he had definitely been a contributing factor. It had been a year and a half before he showed up again, so it had worked. And even when he found her, Eliot drove him away. But it had been almost four months since then, and it was making her nervous. At least Eliot had taught her to defend herself, so she felt comfortable in her ability to get away should he show up again.

Parker liked to go to the roof to think, being outside always cleared her mind. she had been so cozy in the corner that her eyes had fluttered shut and she was just sitting there, so she didn’t even notice for the first minute or so.

The skies had been cloudy all day—not a surprise in Portland—but it had been surprisingly cold for that early in the year. The first few pinpricks of ice landed on her face, but she didn’t even register it. Her only thought was that the rain might drive her back inside. A car honked loudly somewhere below her, and her eyes opened briefly. They started to shut again when she registered what had been in the air.

Parker sat forward with a gasp and immediately scrambled to her feet, holding her arms out to her sides as she peered up at the dark dray sky. A smile spread across her face as she watched the snow float down gently towards her.

She jumped up and down a few times in excitement and then she spun in circles until she got dizzy. She stuck her tongue out, trying to catch snowflakes in her mouth—she wasn’t very successful but she didn’t care. It was snowing, and that was all that mattered.

Parker stopped and rushed over to the edge of the building, peering over the side to watch the snow make its way down to the street. It didn’t seem to be sticking yet, she could only spot a few small patches of white, but the fact that it was snowing this early in the year was an unexpected surprise.

Parker stared out across the city, mesmerized by the falling snow. It took her several minutes to remember that both Hardison and Eliot were in their apartments, and she quickly turned on her heel and rushed to the stairs to talk to them.

Hardison always got excited about the first snow—or at least he did last year. Parker kept having to remind herself that she hadn’t even known him for two years yet, it just felt like they’d known each other for ages. But he would get almost as excited as she did about snow. Eliot would probably get excited too, right? He said he never really had snow days, and the most snow he’d seen was about an inch. The snow wasn’t sticking a lot  _ yet _ , but it would soon!

Parker bounded down the stairs three at a time until she got to their floor, and burst through the door into the hall. She took off down the hall and skidded to a stop right by her apartment. She banged on Eliot’s door, causing Mac to let out a startled bark—oops—and then ran by Hardison’s door to knock on it as well. Not wanting to wait, she ran to the window at the end of the hall and looked out—sure enough, it was still snowing, and she could now see a few places where it had started to build up.

A door opened behind her and Parker glanced behind her to see a confused looking Hardison step out of his apartment. 

“Parker?” He asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“It’s snowing!” She exclaimed, pointing out the window. A bemused smile spread across Hardison’s face as Eliot’s door also creaked open. Mac appeared at Eliot’s door and came trotting out to greet Parker, who obligingly bent down to pet her. Mac sniffed Parker a few times before she moved off to investigate other things.

“It’s snowing.” Parker repeated when Eliot looked like he was going to ask a question.

“This early?” Eliot looked past her out the window and raised an eyebrow. “Damn, it really is.”

“Let’s go outside!” Parker exclaimed, already heading to her apartment to grab a heavier jacket and a hat. Hardison nodded excitedly and moved to do the same, but Eliot interrupted them.

“Woah, hang on. You want to go outside?” He asked incredulously.

“...yeah?” Parker replied.

“It’s snowing.” Eliot said slowly, like they hadn’t realized.

“That’s the point,” Parker said, sharing a confused glance with Hardison.

“Eliot, man, it’s the first snow of the year! You gotta go outside and play in the snow, have a snowball fight!” Hardison said with a grin.

“There’s not enough snow on the ground to make a snowball, much less to play in it.” Eliot pointed out.

Hardison shrugged. “So? We can just go for a walk, look at how pretty it is. There’s bound to be one place where there’s enough on the ground for a snowball.”

Eliot looked skeptical, but eventually he sighed and gave in. “Alright, fine.” Eliot whistled, causing Mac—who had slowly been moving down the hall away from them—to come back.

Parker quickly ran into her apartment and grabbed a warmer jacket, and eagerly jammed a hat on her head before she dashed back out into the hall. Neither Eliot or Hardison were out yet, so she waited impatiently, staring out the window as they took their time getting their things.

“Let’s go!” She said excitedly when they finally rejoined her. She fast walked down the hall and jammed the elevator button, which arrived at about the same time that Eliot and Hardison caught up to her. The elevator ride took  _ forever _ , and Parker spent the whole ride bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. Every time she did so the elevator bounced a little with her. She could tell it was making Hardison nervous, and she tried to stop, but she was buzzing with too much energy to stand still.

The second the elevator doors opened into the lobby, Parker darted out of them and all the way into the street. She burst into the cold air and lifted her face to the sky with a crazy grin. The door behind her opened again several long moments later, and she looked back to watch Hardison and Eliot step outside with her.

Hardison had an expression similar to hers—albeit a little less crazy—while Eliot seemed to be trying to glare the snow away. They stood there for a moment, and Parker watched as the hard lines on Eliot’s face gradually softened. He seemed to feel her eyes on him, because his gaze snapped to her and he raised an eyebrow.

Parker smiled in response. “Let’s go to the park!”

\-----

Hardison had to admit, watching Parker get excited about the snow was almost as much fun as getting excited about the snow himself. The snow was barely even sticking to the ground, but Parker kept stopping to watch the snow fall, then dashing ahead of them, only to stop and wait for them and do it over again.

“See Eliot, the snow isn’t that bad.” Hardison said playfully after they had been walking for a few minutes.

Eliot glared at him. “It’s barely sticking to the ground, I don’t think you can even count this as snowing.” 

“What? There’s snow falling out of the sky, and it’s making it all the way down to the ground without melting, I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of snowing.” Hardison shot back. Eliot rolled his eyes and didn’t respond, so Hardison turned his attention towards the city around them.

The snow seemed to be driving most people indoors, as the city was much emptier than it should be considering it was only about 4:30. Hardison was jealous of everyone inside their nice, warm, cozy buildings, but seeing Parker play in the snow was worth being a little cold. He could always take a warm shower and drink some hot chocolate once he got back to his place. Hardison wasn’t paying close attention to his surroundings, so when they reached the park and Parker gasped, his head snapped up in worry. Before he could ask what was wrong, he saw what took her breath away.

The sun, which had previously been hiding behind endless gray clouds, was peeking out the barest amount to give off a little more light, and it painted the visible sky brilliant colors. Snow was still drifting gently through the air, each flake catching the sunlight as it fell and sparkling like a star. The field in front of them had been covered in the smallest amount of snow—not enough that the grass was completely buried, but enough to lay a satisfying blanket of white across the field. The sunlight that wasn’t caught by the snowflakes reached the ground and reflected off the snow there, the whole field becoming a brilliant combination of orange and yellow, with patches of green grass that shone through. There wasn’t a single footprint in the park yet, so the entire sky was reflected off of the ground. 

Hardison turned to say something, only to stop himself when he caught sight of Parker and Eliot. The two of them looked peaceful, ,and Hardison suddenly realized this was the most relaxed he’d seen either of them in days.

Parker had completely stilled—a rare occasion for her—the nervous energy that always filled her had vanished. She had a small smile on her face as she took in the setting sun, the sky reflecting its brilliant colors in the ends of her hair that peeked out from under her hat. Eliot actually looked relaxed for once, the tension in his body that Hardison hadn’t even realized was there had disappeared, turning his usual rigid posture into softer lines. He was standing almost normally, barely even leaning on his cane as he watched the sun set.

The sun disappeared behind the cloud again a moment later, and Hardison was sad to see it go if only because Parker and Eliot had looked so peaceful.

Parker blinked a few times and turned her gaze to Hardison, a sly grin spreading across her face before she darted forward. She vaulted over the fence and took off into the field, leaving nothing but footprints and echoing laughter behind her. Hardison exchanged an amused glance with Eliot, and the two of them made their way into the park after her—using the gate, like normal people. Hardison almost felt bad about disturbing the snow that had fallen so perfectly on the grass, but what was the purpose of snow if not to play in it?

The kid inside him was dying to follow Parker’s lead and play in the snow, roll around in it and make snowballs and get soaked and freezing. Well… not like it would hurt anything. Hardison gave into the temptation and flopped onto the ground, spreading his arms and legs and doing his best to make a snow angel in the snow that had barely dusted the field. He closed his eyes for a moment, and let the snow continue to fall gently on his face.

“You’re gonna be soaked and miserable on the walk back.” Eliot said gruffly, and Hardison opened his eyes to see Eliot standing over him.

Hardison grinned. “C’mon man, it’s  _ fun _ .” Eliot rolled his eyes and looked away, his gaze tracking Parker as she ran across the field.

Hardison sat up and shook his head. He reached his hand out to Eliot who immediately grabbed Hardison’s hand and pulled him to his feet so fast he stumbled forward a few steps. Hardison turned around to survey his creation, and was a little disappointed to see that his snow angel looked less like an angel and more like a blob—there just wasn’t enough snow. Hardison frowned, once there was more snow, he was going to drag Eliot back to the park and force him to make a snow angel, or a snowman, or some other snowy creation.

Hardison looked back up in time to see Parker do several cartwheels in a row, and wasn’t at all surprised to see the amount of footprints she had already tracked across the previously untouched field.

“You should’ve brought Mac, she would’ve loved the snow.” Hardison said, elbowing Eliot gently.

Eliot shrugged halfheartedly. “She would, but walking a dog on the ice while using a cane is a recipe for disaster.”

“Mac barely even pulls on her leash anymore! You’ve trained her so well.” Hardison argued, but Eliot just shot him a look.

“Next time. This is all gonna melt by tomorrow anyways.”

Hardison studied Eliot, trying to figure out if his reluctance to bringing Mac out in the snow ran deeper than that. “Okay, but I want to see her play in the snow.” Eliot sighed and nodded.

They spent another ten or so minutes talking, and Parker even came over to join them after about five. She didn’t say much, opting instead to make different patterns in the snow with her boots.

“We should probably head back before it gets too dark.” Hardison suggested, trying not to sound like he was cold. The look Eliot gave him told Hardison that he saw right through the act, but they started walking back.

“I told ya you’d get cold.” Eliot pointed out partway into their walk. Hardison rolled his eyes and jammed his hands deeper into his jacket pocket.

“It was worth it.” Hardison claimed. And it was. Making a snow-blob in the first snow of the year was worth being a little chilly. Besides, he was planning on taking a nice, warm shower when he got into his apartment.

They finally reached their building, and Hardison had never been so thankful for the miracle of heating.

“Hot chocolate?” Parker suggested as they stepped into the elevator.

“I’m gonna take a shower to warm up.” Hardison said. Next to him, Eliot shook his head, so Hardison bumped his shoulder into Eliot. “Excuse me if I get cold.”

“Okay, but don’t take too long.” Parker replied.

“Too long? Woman, my showers are  _ never _ too long!” Neither of them responded, but Hardison caught the look they shared. “Fine, no shower. But I gotta at least put on dry clothes.”

Parker nodded enthusiastically. “Me too. Then we can make hot chocolate and watch movies and eat popcorn!”

“We still have to eat dinner.” Eliot pointed out, sounding like an exasperated parent.

Parker let out a long sigh. “Fine. But I still want hot chocolate!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed my tumblr so if you want to talk about anything Leverage related come talk to me at thieves-never-say-die (which I think is a pretty apt username considering this fandom literally brought a show back from the dead)


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